Under the umbrella of concrete, yesterday, we laughed at tomato for its carelessness

Under the umbrella of concrete, yesterday, we laughed at tomato for its carelessness.
Their thoughts have gone rotten by a bucket, and they talk of rope necktie.
A shot is cabbage in the sky over the office
Dear friend, now is all right the heel.

Today a duck they dug out in a brush of philosophismus
My laugh is nearer to the condition of dachshund-like cylinder than the cucumber-shaped idea of Aquinas
I put on gloves emerald green and start with a book Membranologie under my arm
Is there a shop to sell clear bags?

Tomorrow beside a bucket a necktie I shall wear for the sake of General clothed in vegetable costume
A weary city is likened to a brush
Begone! a wandering head
Begone! in a fling like an explosive, over the rock through a Geissler's brass pipe.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.