here's another cut-up I wrote with the infamous temptress they call Mrs. Bojangles...
malibu broads
sailors with large noses
scream inside pingpong straightjackets
comforted secretly
by Brahms and bleu cheese
and pool patrolmen
who stand patiently under black umbrellas
but the taste of my tremendous whip
drunk on honeydew wine
is in new territory
waterfalls in far-off Africa
sentimental, psychopathic
basic and wondering
encounter constrained keys to Studebakers
carrying spoons around their necks
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