29Apr/092
Hardcore Rhymer
My darling philanderer
Why dost thou melt through the day?
Squeeze your vitality away?
When you could swing in a hammock at night
And do your work just right.
Sleep the smouldering noon.
Dictate to your secretary
Under the ice-cream moon
And let the photocopier, fax M and scanner whirr away
With undeterred junoon.
Why do what the ice-agers did?
Isn’t it time you flipped it?
April 29th, 2009 - 04:08
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April 29th, 2009 - 04:37
heyy.. thx anuz