| Original Message: Distant Dreamer (a poem) |
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Bug of the spear
O! Twisted fortuna,
that we might wield
halberds anew,
with a plus-one bonus
but no,
the bonus scattered and smited,
as a baby's diaper dropped,
we ran from the spear,
into the armsmastery of the swords
of a blaster
of the minotaur's axe O! Warbling pantaloon that we might traverse the land of the giants with a dozen or more points of pain tacked onto our maximum damages like doors onto a corridor in the Palace of the Eleven Moons... Can a patch restore these sundered pants? Might some magic repair the split ends of this weapon's hair? -- Copyright 1971 by Random Petulantilitarian Cupcakes the Harpsichordist (1979-____) |
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