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Here's my only possible response: Clipped parcel viola whipple painting acrobat canticle.
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Good, but not as good as the poems that Euro, Boss Radio, some others and I put together serially while bothering our favorite teacher after high school:
"Cobalt, can you swing dung da?
Optical nose, Erin go bragh.
Brown plague hat, duniwassal, Beowulf.
Ubermensch, bunnyland, Pere Ubu's shelf."
Of the second I only recall a fragment:
"Pig iron, crib death, bang-up dolly.
Runny drippy bibblewang, like smooth Krishna Umbwebwe . . ."
Now that's good pottery.