fjällstormhatt
You can't understand. There's a
(21) peaceable remark in the
boreal forest,
& the remark is space all around --
-- all around me -- kind of big country.
Climbing an elk-shooting platform,
well that's another thing.
The hunters splashed the "fell-storm
-hat" with their pissing, it nodded on its stem.
The forest is a slot machine,
maximum payout £70.
The big green leaves splashed by
another astonishing waterfall,
& it was raining too, up towards
the fells
a few years ago. We got waffles
later in the shop,
and I was so happy along with Mum & Dad
that I forgot the forest remark, until now.
"Exploring Nature's playground" says the
Peter Storm t-shirt.
Yes Peter you had that about right. There
are several isotopes,
a thousand maybe -- most are so
long, we only know them by their
preambles. I do just want to play and hear the songs.
The mottled clouds of today are desperate!
Labels: Poems
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