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Poezii Românesti - Romanian Poetry

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It is Too Titty to be a Preacher
poèmes [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
par [ Mazhar Butt ]

2014-02-02  | [Ce texte devrait être lu en english]    | 






Let's go to Annual shower flow
rather than watch artists perform Bad salad
while keeping their Bass-ackwards
But I have a Bat flattery
And the Bedding wells are ringing
All the Belly jeans are drunk and frolicking
I don't think it's Birthington's washday today
Her memory gives my mind a Blushing crow
Should I call her a Bowel feast?
They say Britannia waives the rules
Bunny phone gave them all the strength
Their heads covered with Cat flap
King's men were Chewing the doors
One guy was busy Chipping the flannel
Cop porn flowing from his mouth
Another dude Crawls through the fax
Damp stealer mistakently sticks the stamps
Fight in your race, Oh!
Residents watch from Flock of bats
A Flutter by hovers on Docs head
While he performs Full bottle in front of me
Go help me sod, cries a passer by
Hiss and leer, the angels remark
We have run out of our Hypodermic nurdles
And we are shout of the hour
You can wait and enjoy Keys and parrots
and Know your blows
Many have come to us with Lack of pies
But we discovered that with Lead of spite
Certainly no one likes Mad banners
Playing with Mad bunny makes Men Mad
It's not unwise to be as Mean as custard
Mend the sail and let everyone know
Speak up, Don't say your zips are lipped
Nasal hut tastes good with chocolate
but too much of Choc will make you Nick your pose
Stretch your No tails like those of a gorilla
Certainly it's bad Pit nicking
the Plaster man made by Master Engineers
Equipped with necessary Pleating and humming
So be Ready as a stock in matters all
When the Rental deceptionist hammers your teeth
Let not your eyes get Roaring with pain
Learn perseverance from Dicken's Sale of two titties
Remember how Jesus would do Sealing the hick
Chill out and Shake a tower
Sir Stifford Crapps expressly implores you
He is presently navigating the Soppy cheese
With a Soul of ballad in his hand
Loudly crying 'Tease my ears, O Lord'
The rutting season for tea cosies is round the corner
It's joy to be there, take it not as the pun fart
O My Tons of soil !
I know it is too titty to be a preacher
Not easy to walk on Trail snacks
We have but to Wave the sails.
(adapted)

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