A fat poet reads,
Playing with the hair in his belly button.
The subject is the rain.
Who among us would follow him down that road?
Think of the mud and
Think of the agreement in his smile to which none of us could ever be faithful,
It copied an older form--one to which we do adhere, actually.
And these rainy plums are black and sugary.
Streaming Alert:: Comet’s Freaky Feast Marathon - Heads up! On Thanksgiving Day, if you end up hungry for some killer entertainment, our old pals over at COMET TV have got you covered in fantastic horror g...
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