Classic poem of the day
Since the Men from a Party, or fear of a Frown,
Are kept by a Sugar-Plumb, quietly down.
Supinely asleep, & depriv'd of their Sight
Are strip'd of their Freedom, & rob'd of their Right.
If the Sons (so degenerate) the Blessing despise,
Let the Daughters of Liberty, nobly arise,
And tho' we've no Voice, but a negative here.
The use of the Taxables, let us forebear,
(Then Merchants import till your Stores are all full
May the Buyers be few &......
Member poem of the day
(and cries out long day's journey into night,
no...not for Eugene O'Neill),
but rather being distributed
in their respective bins at Wegmans
Under the Elms
Dressed up in our Sunday finery,
(which attire frankly looks no different
than the clothes we wear on any other occasion,
nevertheless we try our level best
with steely mettle,
we haul gull ass to said location
in a concerted effort
to be romantic on those singular o...