Sunday, September 09, 2007

How Come

How come
I can make you come,
she said,
but I can never make you go?

Oh what filth it was, she said,
Talking to him about love,
And oh what a downer it was
Waking up with an autoerotic
Skullduggish clown like him.

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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)