The evergreens are Dying 101.
Once, we spoke of that sells. Be able to do
That. I can't connect ass-cream receptors, porn,
A pagan lamb. I will kiss on it, but
I never let you see it. Rather, I
Collect a debt and, indirect
Beneath tree, it failed to thrive. Did Ryan?
Crumbling to throw that stuff, is there
Remains? A some what insufficient priest,
It tends to lifeguard Warioware.
Of liquor, cost from fences, it at least
Passed foods. It, we lie, it's a p****. Oh sister --
Pass -- is yours? It waters my neurosis.
Once, we spoke of that sells. Be able to do
That. I can't connect ass-cream receptors, porn,
A pagan lamb. I will kiss on it, but
I never let you see it. Rather, I
Collect a debt and, indirect
Beneath tree, it failed to thrive. Did Ryan?
Crumbling to throw that stuff, is there
Remains? A some what insufficient priest,
It tends to lifeguard Warioware.
Of liquor, cost from fences, it at least
Passed foods. It, we lie, it's a p****. Oh sister --
Pass -- is yours? It waters my neurosis.
1 comment:
After transcribing a bit of poetry through the voice-to-text application and having it come out funny, I was tempted to recite an entire sonnet into it to see what found poetry emerged. This is a rendition of "The tree-line," which becomes slightly more disturbing when given cell-phone-inspired inflection; one is certain of few things, but among them is that discussing one's sister's p**** (whatever that might be) is off-limits -- so pass, the "poet" says. I added punctuation and capitalization of each first line, but otherwise did not change the content. A fun experiment.
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