The third worst poetry in the universe, Vogon poetry. Apparently the Soup allows...lol
shoulda ben rimes in timing, short of I am bik meteor. a lit a bit of funning, co lab adorashun with fella slurpers, alfa betting by tossing in a bowl or turning in a flying bed, as sheep are worn out by leaps and counting, running on sentences, perhaps cross ref rencing guilty teens and hanging dirty laundry for all two see, hang ink on lim or icks, as i transverse the u and verse, o go on u say and i shell simmer in a pot, hoping its the won of gold but i dont want no leper con and rain bow or stoopid cupid to steal my home in outer space, so i scribble a crostic
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