I like poetry but it is a dung cart. I like being in love but that is a dung cart too. I have to be content with things that are dung carts although I really want something that is not a dung cart. Something that will allow me to live when my frivolousness is like death…
Unfortunately for me, everything is going to be called a dung cart. Such as: kissing someone and then not listening to what they’re saying. I don’t care what they’re saying! They’re a businessman! A business man is not a dung cart…
I am always thinking of a dung cart. Dung is neatly piled on it! Even if I look around I can still see clearly that everything is a dung cart & I too am a dung cart.
Dung cart after dung rolling by……
Anyway, I like dung carts. My favorite things are dung carts. Dung carts with dung falling off them.
