Dour rebus, conch, hip
Ham, the autumn day, oh how genuine!
Literary frog, catch-all boxer, O
Real! The magistrate, say “group,' bower, undies
Disk, poop, “Timon of Athens.” When
The bugle shimmies, how glove towns!
It's merrimac, bends, and pure gymnasium
Impy keels! The earth desks, madmen
Impose a shy (oops) broken tube's child---
Land! Why are your bandleaders troops
Or is? Honk, can the mailed rose
Gesticulate? Arm the paper arm!
Bind up the chow in its lintel of sniff.
Rush the pilgrims, destroy tobacco, pool
The dirty beautiful jingling pyjamas, at
Last beside the stove-drum-preventing oyster,
The “Caesar” of tower dins, the cold's “I'm
A dear.” O bed, at which I used to sneer at.
Bringing cloth. O song, “Dusted hoops!” He gave
A dish of. The bear, that sound of pins. O French
Ice-cream! balconies of deserted snuff! The hills are
very underwear, and near “to be”
An angel is shouting, “Wilder baskets!”
1st stanza of When the Sun Tries to Go On
