Oren Gates
He’s a pepperspray all hairy
Dips of the filth bleat them, go
over-boink, like a lariat
or a test– they fill them, those
nut-brained beamers, & then
they run the light right out–
we’ve packed for a pleading, lean, lost
road
trip.
w/ Snoopy, & that bird.
*
“Junior, stop making that face at the chickens.”
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