Hello poetry is public matters Id say because I walk this streetlamp eating nutty butterfingers total blown down deeper than the throat young yella bone chicanos can fap maniacally as ***** ***** dancers watch me much much munch. I am Hello Poetry yet Id **** a microphone in the closet because my eggcrates ache grunge album that do not belong to Yyclef. I lied **** head but butter me up buttery enough that my under pants don't snag my inchy tagged and tickled gnome. "Oh Underpant we ****** Old Gregs crack pipes he leaves on cold countertops this month for this be Off season." I weep. Why not my pans or my pun tease these ******* growing mickey mouse thunb prints before my nuts become cheese. Good greaf I'ffy if me sneechy ***** beach teacher teaching toddler that the fingers thumper. Thump my thumb. Pinterest my buns before I *** critters all in tune to teepee creaking creeps kitchen chicken finger fetching fists before *** educari gets carry on that vibes to Marshals mashed potato. Mathers you do matter much. I love the gleam of your crust. Tears up to the Beautiful song that becomes songs and weeps once more.