once upon elizabeth's beautiful voice
and i walked like a burning mantis surfeited by her recent mate
the text blurred and she lost her words
written along the black slate of subconsciousness
that smell, when you're having a heart attack from eating a tater tot
cake--that smell is black ink
I think it's due time we killed the exquisite corpse
--- --- ---- -------
the mix chicks still kill the crocodile hunter
filling my mind with euphoric imagery
but by the end of the day the possum wasn't faking!
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