Once there was a runner
with a runny, runny nose
He’d ring up a Nazi gunner
with a ladder in her hose
They struck up a conversation
‘bout the nature of death
Of the things that they’d seen
and what there was left
(when they’d finished)
So they clung to each other
all elbows and knees
and made love in the Church of Neon.
Hello, chums and chumettes!
I have, as of yesterday, returned from Las Vegas, which is where I was and why I wasn't writing. (Pics or it didn't happen, I know, I know, they're forthcoming.) But anyway, here's a poem!
Comments
WildBlueSun Says:
WTF indeed.
Two people fuck each just pre-death?