The hollow space of the mind,the coefficient of the jungle,being its conscientious codex codified as the cockcrows,cockahooped regardless of its cockadoodledoo,from sunrise tis sunset,Will not solace dampsquib as howling wilderness in its coefficient of expansion nor warm the cockles of the heart,at the cock of the walk,to trickle down purple passage,gilded trump of stardom nor this cockleshell onboard they paddle if not capsized to live in clover,that it may live like fighting cock, Does the centrifugal choplogic,ever touch the right cord,to chuckle choo?
No comments:
Post a Comment