Give Ten Cents To Rin Tin Tin

Oh , jinxes in the Ouija water,/the pile up of them all,/ blue and laughing,/the blunt crowds,/a frown on their afternoon faces:/the reflection of their eyes while they ogle/fossils of what was fertile in their reach and domain./I don a few skins, weasels and ferrets,/later on, I move them in shades./The business was there/but I wouldn’t take it/I lay on the bed instead throughout the campaign./Divine, canine, trapdoor to ecstasy, /I could tell the business was of warp and woof. /WOOF WOOF

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