Your life is leaning downhill

Sloping off the outer edge

Your undetermined oyster beds

Were found to be a hedge

You cause the kids of Elmer Fudd

To feed the farmer whose

Cadaver's filled with onion rings

And feet are filled with glue



Now sinister exaggerator

What's your claim to fame?

Is still your favorite Ferlingetti

Found in Auntie Maim?

Your alter life is superceded

Only from above

Your hear is like a silken sponge

That calls saliva love

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