Wordvert
I feel dirty.
I lurk in dark corners molesting words.
I play with ideas against their will.
I force bad rhymes
into assonating hymns.
My grubby sheets of paper are stained
with the sordid passion of a restless thesaurasmic night.
I should be locked up.
I play with ideas against their will.
I force bad rhymes
into assonating hymns.
My grubby sheets of paper are stained
with the sordid passion of a restless thesaurasmic night.
I should be locked up.
3 comments:
No no, not locked up, Kanikoski - awarded a medal for thesaurasmic.
Kind regards etc.....
TPE
PS. I'm sorry it has taken me forever to come and say hello to you here, by the way (I did encounter problems, however, trying to comment once before). If I had only known that I would find you forcing yourself upon words (naughty Kanikoski, you are a very dirty boy!) in a thrashingly thesaurasmic smutathon, I would have brought the police with me, too.
TPE, kind sir, you are a most welcome visitor! A smutathon sounds super, but maybe without the fuzz this time, eh?
Ha! Trust my instinct to find you two dirtballs, about to launch into a thesaurasmic smutathon, and, what's worse, betrayal of the highest order - without me!
Yeah yeah, ok ok, I know - it's a guy thing. I go, I go. Watch me go.
xx one each
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