Poetry is like water
And it’s rising above my head
Poetry is cement mortar
And it’s filling up my bed
The death worms got wings now
Well, all things progress
At least that’s what the scientists say
But I couldn’t care less
Poetry is a dust storm
And it’s chocking me to death
Poetry is a heat wave
There’ll soon be nothing left
The flying ants are coming now
bagels leaving the nest
At least that is what science says
So, I’m heading west
This is where rsndom image comes after image
comida italiana
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Op wandel in de natuur met zijn ontelbare geheimen
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