Pour me a glass of preshrunk propaganda.
World leaders are floating in my stereo.
Crawling headfirst through a portal to missed opportunities.
The 1000 Cricket Overture turned a deaf ear.
She opened a cereal box and found a colourful assortment of diseases.
She reads the magazines to keep her surgeries up to date.
All of her love has left the coffee table.
The lonely rabbit took a stroll along Vengeance Street.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem