Prose

Bacon slabs minus recourse
Simple minds jelly without source
Celebrate scouts intense glue
Of course minus cerebral true

Golf toward a presidential crow
Lifted wounds with dripping throw
Cool warped drawers hence in sloth
Jumped out with pants in purple cloth

Atomic mind within a cutter
Throughout guards cry under mutter
Waters tested for earthy cakes
Scented for decades in easy bakes

Swing the lawn under tow is black
Jaded crammed above the race track

Bricks float green swills of evening juice
Joe breaks the hill with Sara loose
"I am the guitar whisperer."
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