A Bloem (That means Blog Poem)

This is a Bloem, a poem on a blog. That also means that it can only make less sense (from what poems are already). 

On a Thursday Night, it's thundering, no fright, I just might make some tea.
But Me? Make some tea? No siree! I am a man and a man makes.. Coffee.
But Coffee? That's not me. I kinda like tea. Only Green.
And that means tomorrow's Friday, Friday is my day, hay day, make way for me, Friday. Anyway.
Is a dog brown if it's a down clown ready to go to town to buy a crown, my dog, he's brown. And the brown is soft, not the brown but the dog, the dog likes no fog for he sleeps in a log. No dog likes to jog in fog.

I woke up drank some not tea, and I flee and all of a sudden I see! Someone? No that's me. In  the mirror. I must've been staring in the mirror. It kills so much time I just, wait. Did you hear that? The Thunder #Thunder. Clash mag in a slumber at most can I have your number?
And don't forget! Plantains, avocados just right, and plums with red on the inside with no cucumbers. But what do they look like on  the outside and no cucumbers? Yeah no cucumbers, on that post in a Tumblr. No cucumbers!
Hey! Little Girl! On the curb! Hand me that snowcone on the ground! It's still fresh, no joke. But watch out don't choke, there's a roach in it! Just kidding just hand it, to me he spoke.
Anyway, the rhyme has come to a close, as I must pick up some clothes, from the cleaners, my gold suit and my jeaners and please no pictures for my eyes have got no fixtures. My glasses I mean I do them on the lean, for free, they're clean and that ain't no LIE.