How much faster must one be?
Dealing daily in alacrities.
Seen by some, some didn't want
(taunted by earlier haunts).
I guess it has become pretty plain
I mess with words to add the rain in Spain.
Now they come, now they arrive
to arrest my bleeding writings.
I did it since I was one or two,
on your walls and tummies too.
First I looked like a fool,
then I wrote the code you sought.
Forsooked, for God's sake!
Stranded on a beach for like a thousand years!
Like some rattan, dishevelled toy
for that cold sake.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
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