stuck-up travelers-by-trade tell of a distant land
where all the people are bright orange
and their tongues explode with treacherous
half-truths that are baking in the warm
diseased mind of the salvation army
dunno about all that, but his friends
call him shaggy
the catastrophe (or, how I bought the very last Stretch Armstrong in Baltimore)
Posted by Prester John Friday, August 14, 2009 at 10:44 PM