exhaustion fell on this dread, <br />like mold on these piano keys, <br />it stunk up the place, still i had <br />to investigate this electrical <br />storm, untill i at least isolate <br />this despondent dyke from killing <br />itself, and she cries becouse the <br />cows have no milk, <br />or the chords have no sound, <br />or this rain provides no drink.<br /><br />DAVID GERARDINO<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/funny-drinks/
