30 Dec
2014
30 Dec
'14
11:54 a.m.
It came to me in a dream:
I’d gladly “work the birds,”
If only I were heard!
My beam is pointing high,
Directly at the sky,
But when I key the mic
My neighbor’s wife goes white
And o’er he comes
To use his thumbs
And squeeze my windpipe tight!
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