I Am Waiting For Foreigner Girls To Select The Stuff Of My Poetry

I am waiting for foreigner girls
To select the newer themes of my poetry,
Yea, the foreigner blondes and belles,
Lasses to write my poetry,
To select and pick
The stuffs of my poetry,
Foreigner girls
With the slinging bags
And the luggage
Being dragged or pulled.

The girls from distant Europe
And Latin America will come
And shall see
With my flying kisses
And they waving at,
Saying ta-ta, bye-bye, goodbye
At the airport,
The beauties and blondes from
England, America, Zimbabwe,
Argentina, Brazil,
Ukraine, Russia.

Without seeing the foreigner girls,
How can you,
How can you write poetry,
The verse-lines,
Without seeing them,
The blondes and beauties
From foreign,
Across the seas,
The white-white girls,
Brown-eyed, blue-eyed
And I fearing to look into
The eyes dangerous and fatal?

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