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Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers 4/19/20 ( a rhyming exercise)

rubber baby buggy bumpers

rapping happily by back street dumpster cruppers

a full lump of clump trumpeters

say fast the last tax of a TJ max

or ask why the fly guy sigh’s politly

near by but no knows why

this strange strange guy cries

in lines of nine nights back

to back so tight he might fight

the flight too late to drive

I might lie not to a lazy layman lacking

the triumphant triumphs of a hazy

trained plan elephant fanaticaly

attacking the sacking of hacky sack

matches in mid October,

this droning rover

more grumpy than

a squeaky cleaning

gleaming Grover

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