i see a bread moon risin’,
spicy trouble on the whey.
i see: a fair, quakes, and lightning,
icy bats, hounds, a day.
Don, go out tonight,
they’ll finally take your dad,
there’s a bathroom on the right.
I fear hurry, canes are blowing.
I, no, the end, is common soon.
I fear reverse, O! the flowing!
I hear the voice of erasure, ruin!
Don, go rant aright,
Lift-fowls will take your slight-
debts, a baboon on the rice!
[vocative, apostrophising] (O! rice!)
[so low!]
Hope, you got your things together?
Hope, you’re quiet, prepare that eye!
Look slight: we’re international, Heather.
Juan’s eye mistaken for an ass,
well, a donkey, round-delight,
well it’s foul to take your net,
there’s a bag-goon-cockatrice.
Don, Ayn Rand to refight,
she’ll not acknowledge his plight,
just another parasite.
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