Into the party, with engraved invitations, I am bored when
I realize the champagne in the decrepit bowl is going to get
filled up a lot. Well then, on the greens in front of the
Mansion are walking Tom Clark and Ted Berrigan, what chums!
...
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I only hope that the author has enough dignity to understand what it means to them. I wish that I could understand what this was talking about, but the random order and alliance of words dont make a complete description good enough for me to want to search for more meaning. This is not poetry, but a sad form of prose.
Pants! Absolute drivel, what rot! ! Someone's taking the mickey and flashing the v's to the reader.