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KILLER'S BREATH
You reek of death
It hangs about you
Like cologne
You give new meaning to the phrase
If looks could kill.
Troy fell for less.
The chiclets cracking
In your mouth
Sound like so many
Hearts
Breaking in rhythm.
Are they cheaper by the dozen?
You're poured into your pants
Like you mean business.
Thank God
I'm poor.
Did they send you to Sodom
To wipe out
A whole civilization?
Angel,
Have mercy.
When you slum among us
Something's got to give
And someone's got to pay.
SF 1983 |
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