I just got a poem in the mail that rhymed an'all
a real poetess at work, some scratch mind honey-bunch
sweet little thing, a blue-eyed mistress of quirk
and it brought me my deep seat out loud
a hunch sob from a heat place, the cough and cry of oh and I
a perfect syncro of you.
So now that that's the distance to here, oh yes,
keep em coming, I say
and I for my sins will return this tin thing
and ask where is Wally today.
.
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