If my poetry were a place it would be Keenly Beanly Pumpkin Pie
There would be gootslangs, underbellies, and brazen cats that fly.
Trixie muse would be wearing a gold crown with emerald jewels round.
A more whimsical place could hardly hope to be found.
Adjectives and adverbs would be hanging out on Gumslopper trees.
A fire dragon would fly...
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