Fraility of wicker-hurdle trap
Transpiring like trickster’s trespass on my fullsize map
My eyes were full of sprightly-spoken trinked-trath
Bald villain mixed the tingle of a fraud with the mustiness and I drank it in a rash
Untimely paroxysm began to flatten laminate my awkward clumsy mimicry
The scum, who used to rook began to scrutinize the scuffle with the one who used to be sentry
The hypnocritical injustice portend with the rumour «it’s all up!»
As there is no more crumbs to scrub
Somehow this bullion seems to be the sculptured scroll
Unfounded target pored on the rotten recumbent control
02/02/2007
Wicker-hurdle
© Copyright: Анна Стессель, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110060408198
Свидетельство о публикации №110060408198
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