#AmericanWriters
The solitary huntsman No coat of pink doth wear, But midnight black from cap to spu… Upon his midnight mare. He drones a tuneless jingle
They tell me that euphoria is the… Today I have the agility of a Gre… Yes, today I may even go forth wi… Today I am a swashbuckler, would… This is my euphorian day,
I have a bone to pick with fate, Come here and tell me girly, Do you think my mind is maturing l… Or simply rotting early.
Any hound a porcupine nudges Can’t be blamed for harboring grud… I know one hound that laughed all… At a porcupine that sat on a splin…
Children aren’t happy with nothing… And that’s what parents were creat…
I would live all my life in noncha… Were it not for making a living, w…
Nothing makes me sicker than liquor and candy is too expandy
One thing that literature would be… Would be a more restricted employm… metaphor. Authors of all races, be they Gre… Can’t seem just to say that anythi…
Master I may be, But not of my fate. Now come the kisses, too many too… Tell me, O Parcae, For fain would I know,
I test my bath before I sit, And I’m always moved to wondermen… That what chills the finger not a… Is so frigid upon the fundament.
This one is entering her teens, Ripe for sentimental scenes, Has picked a gangling unripe male, Sees herself in a bridal veil, Presses lips and tosses head,
The doctor gets you when you’re bo… The preacher, when you marry, And the lawyer lurks with costly c… If too much on you carry. Professional men, they have no car…
Higgledy piggledy, my black hen, She lays eggs for gentlemen. Gentlemen come every day To count what my black hen doth la… If perchance she lays too many,
May I join you in the doghouse, R… I wish to retire till the party’s… Since three o’clock I’ve done my… To entertain each tiny guest; My conscience now I’ve left behin…
Tell me, O Octopus, I begs Is those things arms, or is they l… I marvel at thee, Octopus; If I were thou, I’d call me Us.