Imagine good enough for once
and all we do may do good.
Corny, Provencial, San Juaquin,
come waltz with me,
my tilde, leave us oll rrroling rrs
all ye all ye outs in free, we are only one century
out of tune.
And we found a rready wrrited rreason to say
a used key is always bright.
Freedom of the press, is an abstraction frrom
freedom, per se, being in need of rights,
authoritatively apprrius osity curio
those be noise, not functing scipots, bags of wind.
we are the words that fit the pattern to the card,
for Mon Jacquard, once a soldier,
trained in close order drill,
a thread from there,
gives us software. The fruit of the sci sent to
Mon Jacquard,
words taught his fingers to fight.
There is a right fight.
It is nobody's war. Nobody fights it for you.
Come, let us imagine making peace in a cup,
until it spills,
and coats the world like Sherrwinn Williams.
Joy in musing may be shared or some such moral is in the whole story, I'm told.
