Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Tweet Repeat 83

I buttonholed the bastard, as soon as I was plastered, 
I took him down a peg or two, shook him as if clearing a flue,

I told him every annoying trait, laid it out like bread on grate, 
and toasted him until well charred, roasted him in thick, thick lard,

only to find the next day, what I thought was genius in every way, 
was indecipherable to the extreme,
unconnectable to any language, so that all to him I seemed, 
was a dense uncooked hot dog sausage.

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