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I Read Cummings jokes. Author: F.E. Van Kirk
I read Cummings jokes writtenwrote
crying laughing up his sleeve.
Congratulating himself. O laughing 'pon what critics
(dreary, witty?
critics).
Were willing to perceive.
First person commentary
(but first, how heroic of me,
how endearing... ')
Enough! Enough!
Get on with it! Why is that ‘
hanging there solitary?
"I hope they break their teeth wondering!"
Ahem' - throat clearing.
I shall write some garbled muck,
sans juxtaposition in line and meter.
And none shall ever figure out that as a poet
I was - half was... a (cheater?)
I shall write my garbled words, (shaded, guarded words,)
and making sure.
(it fishy smells), -- What here? What here?
Oh yes, - of blundering,)
I needed the rhyme.
And as fool’s read it (like the king showing his bare ass)
will fear they're (missing something
in themselves?)
Why should I squirt my veins
into my meanings
why should I bleed my heart
? - ? There, satisfied?
For when I am truthful, truly true,
those that understand my (words better than I?)
blend their time picking their nose
(should I have meant rose?)
(andtoiletstraining at my art?) - Art? Stupid, smart, butt, - oh put...
whatever you like there.
Oh, this is such fun, shell'
anyone ever figure it out.
While fool clumped top fool in their dullness?
(Blaring here; Eureka! Shout.
I have feigned my posture, and all,
(save one? believe me
Damn Faulkner interrupts;
["das way I sees it, so das way ‘tis];
“Bastard lover!”
this way).
If the monkeritics (Would that they were that clever!)
had one ounce of brains,
my heart would rejoice: (Nay more .
I would sing, sing ever.)
They'd be in my prayers,
should I ever decide to bray.
Here's my (written posthumously)
latest vurst.
I hope you ken enjoy.
(Very sad right here)
My Sun came up,
My Sun went down
(oh- boy, oh- boy
,OOOOoo - lif eeee!)
"Now with Christmastreedecorated guile,
yew; critics. Enjoy your wurst.
Nice Epitaph I probably got! Much prefer this tome.
"Tired of pulling my Johnson -
Johnson, please pull me home".
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