Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Oona to your Mona

Oona to your Mona, Jill to your Fanny. Felix to your Gilles. The professor sat on a hill smoking his cigarello. What chimes built on the hay of socks was his, presenting multitudes dinner , dun by her cake and sawn by the sun. What rip cord of delight . Repeat after her. Quelle sunder to replace the word French language. Letting it flip. Come a dance
in chaunce
to the sun
its april cocoon
make the fair weathers halt and stop and hop.


Mona got in a huff and a puff blew yer cloud house . Tangled by weir.