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Bury Me Not In My Rip Van Winkle
Death be me a hag, dark's seduction,
of my mind's poetic inglorious
and floor-shine shoes.
Standing in line at Dunkin' Donuts,
when I could have done hearse,
but bury me not in my Rip Van Winkle.
Swatting green flies at my foreskin
with a Saturday night fever.
Thinking I'm John Travolta,
neath my dandified ascot,
with rumors of a decaying corpse,
but bury me not in my Rip Van Winkle.
of my mind's poetic inglorious
and floor-shine shoes.
Standing in line at Dunkin' Donuts,
when I could have done hearse,
but bury me not in my Rip Van Winkle.
Swatting green flies at my foreskin
with a Saturday night fever.
Thinking I'm John Travolta,
neath my dandified ascot,
with rumors of a decaying corpse,
but bury me not in my Rip Van Winkle.
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