The Drunk Poem


Starkle, starkle, little twink,
who the hell are you I think?
I'm not under what you call
the alcofluence of incohol.
I'm just a little slort of sheep,
I'm not drunk like thinkle peep.
I don't know who is me yet,
but the drunker I stand here,
the longer I get.
So, just give me one more fink to drill my cup,
cause I got all day sober to Sunday up.

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