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100,000,000,000,000 poems
He bent right down to pick up his valise
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
And let you off from your opinions glum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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