Some scrape the sky, some bung the low,
All of them got girth.
In throbbing pulse, steel purple glow,
This city sure got worth.
The men they swim in millions,
Small fish biggish pond.
They whipped: their fate: to impregnate,
Hot dog's a magic wand.
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Labels: Cities, poems
2 Comments:
if someone asked me about this city, that's totally what i would say too
Thanks, Crys.
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