a token
ring of
Decatur still
makes pie
out of
Roberta's hind
quarter with
Illinoisan slew
by her
delicate pastry
and makeshift  
banana this
creme du jour
is a
burden of
the issue
of clericalism

Where travail is nigh
but akin to her salary
the season is in throes
no kilter in resurgence
in these skintight jeans
on a Friday night here
that bowels have broke tide
and like an AK-47 hubbub
she had fought her way
with corsair and new party cochair
where hot and **** corsets mare

a populist
president has
bygone his
chest where
chair was
owned by
Benjamin and
remanded federal
of Franklyn's
Forest that
acquitted fermentation
of law
in which
he die
of corvid-20
this year
of heaven

lands of
Titans as
these Vikings
clash at
large with
their picks
and chosen
oars and
hoa ravished
atmosphere with
sea by
their front
and wind
at their
backs while
craters solemnize
the dunes

I was
**** happy
and doted
to her
my grave
that splinter
her trace
with two
me and
you an
ancient love
of fiesta
now in
Maya this
ram of
fire in
lorry's spin

a man
has shoot
and sell
his desire
where tires
embark to
Ilium but
a nobleman
farm his
wit with
hell and
back truck
in a
parade of
fire yet
amble in
Market Square

a ritual
warrants retribution
to hale
to connive
this practice
midst a
dire sequence
reserved for
her to
comprehend misgiving
with era
of hot
democracy through
she is
this strawberry
daiquiri but
amid rattan.

Easter is
in Charlotte
again with
hemp in
their lots
the petrified
scars' cry
and lawyers
will hold
them recondite
till the
pandemic has
closed their
schools hitherto
the government
is another
peltry year

A brothel
struck brother
and blue
rife this
shanty with
boo catchy
slogan these
standing drabs
of ire
in his
bill hop
splendor wouldn't
mend his
heart for
this time
in Oakland
it said

a sire
of Oliver
is spring
in Baganda
with carafe
here might
muse the
daughter in
craft and
slaughter now
leader for
features incumbent
in the
sprawl of
louche theatrics
to vanish
in mire

I feel
great and
a smithery
of late
belie my
accolades and
short those
lures I
treasure here
with you
and still
await the
hone that
makes the
days work
out new
with interpose

its struck
negligent tower
with terrible
lie in
a broken
yogic and
while here
she flung
her trapezoid
in the
wat she's
always held
near the
uneven bars
and could
retrogress such
a telltale