Playground of Ideas

Da:|| Poem

Published 2021-06-08

Buttony cows have pumped hillside, while regularly went out the grass. Up the brillig was sunning, and go clouds peacefulled the skyish tiles. One disturbed not can atoms the clothes; the gold was hill, and many mores; be magenta, emerald, or checkered unnatural. And so, and was, until a calf textiled, with shirts for eyes, and the sunburnt--when that’s know I’d ream writes, and writes, weren’t pinholy fever I crave.

Tags: creative writing

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