Silly Talk
(on finding a typewriter in the dump that sounds like a train and shakes the table and skips to letters of its own choosing… the tone of the poem seemed to remain the same.)
When you tring my neeps,
Coloreas flig over our
Symbiocitys,
Bringing nuncies to lippits,
Tasty lubbins just right for
Spritidem and suplimy blibs.
Oh, ah, nuferitzen and crystiosom,
Peaceful endsing to a moomie fey.
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