Rhythmic word expressions.
Poem
You’ll keep kneading the couch until we meet. I never knew there was an appointment for fiends like me, downing obscurity, just like…
To a guy who’s lived through the Reichstag, pushed around like a Phys.-Ed
“Why is it that a bucket of water soon becomes putrid, but frozen remains sweet forever?
Just stop, For a minute. Please redefine, Re-explain, Reintroduce This gift to me.
She sang to me the other day, A song so sweet and true.
Milk. It does the body good. But what good is the body when the calf weeps formulated milk ducts from the scientist’s teat?
for hours you bubble and sit, in mom’s Crockpot whip: patient for the cool that broth’s so hot.
Today’s poem. This day, we use language in a way that no one has ever known because everything we do know is yester.
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