|
|
Find all poems by vox et praeterea nihil Back to Psycho index |
|
breakfast
|
||||
and so i
says
to him,
i go
"lefty,
here
is what
cha gotta
do: you
run down
to the
station,
and
you inform that
old bastard
we gonna
eat
his
gentlemanly
entrails
for
breakfast."



