I’m a pork diner and a mistaken
Police beating. Thank god I caught
The regurgitation on tape
Or doom befalls the street scene
And her testicles of yellow lamp
Crimes. Your hands are bound
To the rail tickets and, look again,
Just bloody stumps backlit by sparks
Or gummy now investment stubs.
Remember to save your ticket ends
For the raffle, all proceeds go into
The vat and are mixed to be re-fed
To the diner guests and their
Parched identification cards, her mouth.
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