fudge it. he’s a slit slow
anyhow. mastered cant
from thieves now. whoa.
his father had a house plant.
a veritable living room show.
out he’d come,
all sweats and pants,
always finished something though.
this is the life
living with a roommate you don’t
like. and this is how the rant will go:
Well, it looks like I've majorly lapsed on the poem-a-day habit. Not to worry. I'm taking a short break to finish the Balkey story line....
“What,” the young, scarred and scabbed Scib said, “did Mr. Pin calm him – Bixson-” And Balkey closed the gap as soon as the word left the...
Tell him Coral has finally gone sour and the Pin is as crooked as we all thought,” fryed Balkey and eyed the straight and tall, the...