The universe has a great, big soul that flew like a bird from a big, black hole and scorched the dark with its flaming wings, filling the void with a million things.
It's not against people descended from Normans -probably, all of us - its against people who behave like one!
The owl, with moth-dust wings, Flew on the snowy air, Past silky trees And over sleeping fields Where Saxon gold lay buried Like a prayer. His wings as wide as time, He stilled the night;
The giant blubber submarines tuxedoed through the ocean. Four double-biller, Thriller killer Whales in locomotion. The mafiosa of the deep In glorified formation. A muscle busting,