a study toward sonnet #862 by FisherKingKQJ
Man on stilts yelled, Throw me something sister!
While we swooned gospel field holler Mardi Gras,
My girl flashed large boobs as one head twister,
He stumbled onto floats, sure creole faux pas.
In brash rain, since she was wearing no bra,
Her nipples stiffened through her pink tank top,
Her eyes shone with tears of joy upbeat salsa,
Bloody marys stirred veins, we braved bebop.
Old US Mint struck us jump, skip and hop,
And Andrew Jackson's bust was cold bas relief;
I sipped mango ice, she slurped lime snow slop,
Then outside second line flushed out my grief.
She kissed me with her sweet king cake lip gloss,
Green, gold, and crimson sugars made her boss.
(Chorus)
o $100,000 gloss
o $100,000 lustre
o $100,000 shine
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]