There once was a turd put to the test
who stunk poetically at his best...
Bombs they blow stuff apart
Concrete, bricks, cars, and people...
Saw his teacher walk in.
Expectantly he stood there...
I was going to put it into poetry,
But it screwed up the link...
I'm a fly on your wall
The top right corner...
Cranky poets make me smile
So many excuses for lack of style...
Some men only want a warm place to lay pipe.
They will revel in the touch of lips on satin...
I awake and sense
a warm wetness down below...
Compasses in hands across the land;
Let us gather around and make a plan...
Let the storms buffet the trees,
just make cups of espresso...
Real understanding
of what true love would require...
It's goodbye
From this madhatter...