My heart, heavy like a dart. Streaking towards the lawn, like a jart. My cart, flowing like a savory tart. Driving towards the bluff, like a market. Towering, SELL SELL! Stockades, plummet in the Winter's Wall. Street: Peekaboo. Take a hike, you. Listen: Feathers ruffling in the afternoon wind. Binding linens take an afternoon swimming. Take a like for limericking. Shallowed depths... despair once a mare. Once a hare, once a carefree ivory bathmat. Ruggable floormat. Take a hat, punch it and You have a sad trap of lime-tasting mad rats. The world is a sad place for space travel If you can't unravel the face marble The floor might gargle salt in your fleece handrail. Explosions rift the rafts across the ocean's last mastodon. Charles the Worst was the Best in my Book, take a Look. Care to cook? Chef's hat was the best at it. Lay down your weapons and make the bugle call. Feudal pall bearers will wear mirrors on their fear beards. Chalky talks to me in my sleepy walkies. Good talkin', Balkins.