There is a list of vocabulary that I will not use
In protest of the commonality in the jesting done
On the part of the permanence in the Internet
As much as you’ll rake the pine needles this year
It’ll all return for the next
A poet, a scholar, and a waste of time
Nothing is as dangerous as a thought unfelt
A widower with a caulking gun, a bucket full of iron ore
When intent usurped the inefficient all I could do was
