an abominable monster
an adorable man
and a good little whore
with a bible in hand
came strolling along
in tune to song
until Winter said
…. a birthday went wrong

" yo merry! "
and the tramp don’t know
your dirty skirt drips
from the last cup of jo
the breath mint hints
of a back stage blow
" indiscretions "
reek of perfection
…. don’t you no?

" fi-dollar "
and I can make you hollar
but it’s really the whore
who owns this show…

In the Book of money
it’s the me who says “know”

awes for the color of money
yet set upon a high cloud
aligning where there be no crowd
the whispers of a silver shroud
put gravity
where the light is loud
so the waves came calling
and it’s me who came falling
" so don't look "
upon a where… eye nose there hear…

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