I Am Writing These Poems

So Please Get Your Rags And Your Polishing Jars, Somebody Has To Go Polish The Stars.

At Night My Mind Does Not Much Care If What It Thinks Is Here Or There. It Tells Me Stories, It Invents And Makes Up Things That Don't Make Sense. I Do Not Know Why It Does This Stuff. The Real World Seems Quite Weird Enough.

The Bridge Will Only Take You Halfway There, To Those Mysterious Lands You Long To See. Through Gypsy Camps And Swirling Arab Fair, And Moonlit Woods Where Unicorns Run Free. So Come And Walk Awhile With Me And Share The Twisting Trails And Wondrous Worlds I've Known. But This Bridge Will Only Take You Halfway There. The Last Few Steps You Have To Take Alone.

I Myself Do Not Believe In Explaining Anything.

Runny's Nicpic One Day Runny Babbit Met Little Franny Fog. He Said, "let's Have A Nicpic Down By The Lollow Hog." He Brought Some Cutter Bookies, Some Teanuts And Some Pea. And What Did Franny Fog Bring? Her Whole Fog Framily.