Saturday, March 18, 2017

Willikers

Forty freakin' jammed backbeaters
piled-up boasts encroached me peepers
onslaught sudden massive dump
shuts down the metropole's rib rumped

kickslammed 'man Winter's sporty gambit
instrumental scales pedantic
crock the throng or dive right in
expelling steeped Ungavan gin

walked in to banks immobilized
a surly crank blinded sore eyes
just sank on down and took a seat
and watched machines accost the street

in punishment absurdly shining
mad unleashed wild western grinding;
one night's excessive serenade
conspicuous in stout refrain

I'll say.

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