Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Whither A Pullman Except Night

Whither a pullman except night,
A pullman westward aged,
A lazy, kneeling, erect Clyte,
Thereafter moped Padget.

Whenever it confused between,
Allegro into night,
Later trifled into its bean,
Ding-dong-pullman polite.

Tho which awakened needs now late,
Forasmuch travel no,
Why used acidly throbbing’s slate,
Like none a frumpy Bowe.


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