Posted May 22, 2015
Thy micturations are to me /
as plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee.
Groop, I implore thee /
my foonting turlingdromes.
And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,
or I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon.
SEE IF I DON'T!!!
The metaphysics of the metaphor run paralell in stark constrast to the grim vogonity of the poem's author!
Post edited May 22, 2015 by j0ekerr
