No, really.

[aloneandburned]

I sit in solemn silence
On a dull, dark dock
In a pestilential prison
With life-long lock
Awaiting the sensation
Of a short, sharp shock
From a cheap and chippy chopper
On a big, black block.

Comments

sOory. i kill you poem.

[deletestars]

No, really. i killed your poem.

i sit in solem silence
the conation, conclusion clock
in a pestilential prison
the flowering, fluorine flock
awaiting the sensation
from a killing, Kaiser knock
From a cheap and chippy chopper
to a small, seed stock.

and i will end this here because of writers block.

[aloneandburned]

Actually, it's not my poem... it's a warm-up that actors and improvers use when preparing for a show. We start slow, and then we slowly pick up the pace until it gets going really fast, before we stop.

Hmm...

In retrospect, the second sentence sounds really bad.

Z