The 2nd Royal Guards Artillery (Poetry Division) open the big bag of bad poetry and spew it towards your web face, while their commander controls the flow of words like a tap you can't drink from.
All poems should be read out loud accompanied by the sounds of nearby explosions and distant screams.
Paperchase whiskey,
soft and yielding,
munchback caterpillar,
Yvette Fielding.
I once viewed a cloud through the small,
wound or hole, left by bullet,
In the top of my head,
A cloud, the size of Iris,
Who's dead,
I can't remember, I think,I dun..
Erm.
Some say, erm,
The hole thing, head-top? right
Not good.They reckon.
Dunno
Separated by sixteen different fruit juices,
That'll stop you,
Come in here wearing that will you?,
For christ's sake leave me alone.
with Honky-Tonk rhythm
Ohhhhhhhhh.. Rebbecccaaa
wipes donkey,
She wipes donkey,
She wipes donkey.
Rebecca,
She wipes donkey,
She wipes donkey,
Donkey pleased.
