Poet Authority Poem Terminal

The vessel continued on its journey,

Carving through the ocean.

The sailor was distraught.

He wondered if it even needed him.

He hoped to at least see it list to the side a little as it disappeared over the horizon.

Using a suitable adapter.

Some rich couple dragged me in off the street.

Equipped me with latex gloves and insisted I admire the furnishings.

They took my hand and rubbed it against the wallpaper,

Had me fondle their cushions,

And appreciate how plush the rug felt beneath my bag wrapped feet.

He had such delicate hands.

The other bricklayers looked on with jealousy.

Now they had to get wives with hand cream too.

They executed it (and him) perfectly.

But they hadn't thought far enough ahead.

They were trapped in their field!

And fell over.

It took to the road solo,

Eventually crashing into a tree.

The car was disappointed in itself.

It told officers at the scene its driver had ran off.

This made it feel better.

It revved with delight.

He forgot about this.

Later he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror.

Very scary!

He fainted.

And got arrested.

Michael wasn't happy about this.

He told her,

'June I'm not happy about you flirting with other men'

June told him to get over it.

Mrs MacDonald got tired of having him around the house.

She found herself a younger farmer named something like Brad.

Old MacDonald got back into farming eventually too.

He liked the songs.

That's why he took to drawing hands.

Something he'd pronounce 'ands to really hammer the point home.

The hands he drew were quite terrible.

But he wouldn't let that get him down.

Lots of artists were bad at drawing hands.

They'd both forgotten their knives.

After quickly checking that weird middle section for any weapon-worthy objects,

They made their excuses and left.

In Pret,

Betty hauled some Tesco ice cream from a bag for life.

The staff glared as she unclipped the lid and spooned it down her gullet.

She dove back in.

A jar of Kenco appeared.

A barista was being held back by members of the public.

Others urged Betty to leave before he overwhelmed them.

The glossy white plastic weaving its way through the waves in her beautiful hair muted their desperation.

The referee wasn't to know this.

Thanks to this little mishap,

His team marched to glory.

Yay!

The footballer felt a bit bad,

He stroked his shiny medal.

It helped with the guilt.

Who is in a poem set in the 90s,

Drew a middle finger on the classroom's chalkboard,

Which I don't think they use these days.

But his teacher was off sick,

And she had been replaced by a puppy.

Martin felt terrible.

It lingered above the adorable creature for the next hour.

This was an unmitigated disaster.

Not only did the bullet simply bounce off the prez,

It was also absolutely slathered in John's DNA.

He struggled to imagine a way out of this pickle.

I gave my girlfriend a diamond ring.

She took it between her teeth,

And clamped down hard.

The diamond cracked.

Why was she doing this?

I couldn't believe it.

How did she reinforce those tremendous gnashers?

Was there anything she couldn't do?

Three of them!

Ken couldn't believe this.

He'd barely even agreed to one of them,

And he could barely even remember doing that.

What was she doing producing three of the things?

Ken entered deep discussions with the doctors,

Demanding receipts and asking what the return policy was.