Confused Poetic Travels
I entered the poetic cave.
Lit all the alliterations I could, so I could see.
I had hoped for a burlesque show, but settled on ordering a sausage canzone
from the pizzeria.
When I was in Vietnam, under Carpe Diem, he would often reflect on the visual
power of the Nazi Chatushka. I thought it was a cinqku, that if we went before the
Clerihew, the mob would not attempt to implant us in concrete.
As I watched him adorn his head with a crown of sonnets, the crystalline form of
the cave around us became evident.
I drove my Diamante outside in hopes of catching a prehistoric didactic take to
Sadly, my diminished hexaverse was overpowered by three Japanese martial
artist witches in their doduitsu.
I ordered a double dactyl, and downed it in one shot......
to be continued.....
Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2008
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