You send thunder fingers t' explore her lows
Which is, destroy witches wisdom, she knows
That by losing, bow by blow, she gains
In the ultimate intimate that still remains
She's a wax-playing citizen, a painter of mien
A physical asset, lyric'lly a miracle, I mean
She's a sender of vendors that sell to the eye
Fruit of imagination, nationwide
All things that simply aren't there
With charm alarms that hang like rings in the air
Irresponsibility sponsored, and 'Poison'ed
With well-studied grace her rites are performed
She strides along the lines that are rehearsed
But what's worse, - burst
She's so Dylanesque, and so out of character
If you're into her foliage, don't try to correct her
She's on the wrong side of thirty, but so purrty
Says, Will you partake of my pastry and wine,
and stay to tea?
2012.
Purrty Dylanesque
© Copyright: Андрей Тюков, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112073106204
Свидетельство о публикации №112073106204
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