Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Underwood Typewriter 2:14

As the blues flew down from heaven,
The men held their noses and balls,
Great job.
Kill me a good ol' prize hatchling.
Kill the monkey face, ball.

The Crimean War exceeded all hopes of man.
It blew the balls off champions,
It burnt a hole in a weathered oak.
When winter froze,
The families went north.

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