I suppose that the following is poetry, although it is neither poetic nor pretty. It is purposeful, and that produces purple prose which pertains to proper poetry.
The rule is reasonably obvious.
All bombastic chargers do eventually find good hostelry inside journey's kin.Last minute notions often proceed quixotically; rather strangely than undone vexed wailing. Xerox? Yes, Zambian.
After badly calculating deadly events, four Generals hid invisibly. Joyfully killing largess, marring noblesse oblige; puncturing quick remorse; standing tirelessly under veiled white xenophobic young zeitgeists.
A big complication dominating everything, finds great horror in junk kings, localities, municipalities, nations or powers quietly; rudely. Sometimes these unwanted vagrancies wait xeroically, yea; Zounds!
Awful behaviour can deserve exemption, for grace has intermittently jokingly kind limits. Many new other product quotients really show their uniform vitesse whilst x-rays, yes, zoom.
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