Maybe loved,Athens, Women Be Proud
I thought of that. I think all who convened on a ravine, and loved, as aboved, would’ve could’ve might maybe from above, want that form of immortality, or promise, thereof.
I loved Trump’s father, who, with a feather in his cap, loved a vagina so much, a future Prez, Pez, Pez Nerce, who had, with those from Brooklyn, wanted real estate to be real, wanted a kid who could play the fief, to leave the basic training, to give up a drum, Algonquin,
Macaroni? That must be up in one of those money laundering districts far from Cheen spleen, take off your knickers, your rainbow love all in celebration,
A bad cowboy, stumble into NYC, the price of beef, gone bad, or a woman, under a bad, straw tick, louse, love, the bold cow hoss,
To go off to war, to score, to leap free,
Russian brother.
A ruskie, perhaps knowing a huskie, because of Siberian steppes,
Where a nap is of the kneck, at beck and call.
Spam of Human Affection 
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