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03/4/26   
Makes its own gravy

Constantinople (A Spent Tin Colon)

by an anagramical poem by Skippy LeBonne
bio/email
March 8, 2004
Connie bought an opal
("Abalone coupon night!")
from Constantinople.
(Flint postmen croon. A)

Dennis killed a dentist
(dissident knelt Daniel)
at noon on a weekend.
(down on one knee at a)

Eustace was the loosest
(teahouse. "Slow Cassette,")
old bag at the ball.
(sang Wallet Bloodbath.)

"Skippy LeBonne,
("Penis knob? Yelp!")
what are you on?"
("Wore tuna? Ahoy!")

Rest, wily Sergeant Cher,
(The lyrics were strange.)
these are not your nights.
(Ugh, the nearest sonority)

I swam easy, law
(was miles away.)
did not concern me.
(Did cement corn on)

Cher mutters "Oven off,
(the covers turn me off?)
do not wink."
(I don't know.)

"Ahem... Hulk tit bin
(I think the album,)
is full again."
(alias "Gin Flu,")

"Abscess kit, sud jug...
(just sucked big ass.)
where'd you get all this?"
(The "Swirly Eel" ad ought)

"Do we bleat out?"
(to be outlawed.)
Cher, you crazy bitch...
(Buy other chic, crazy)

It's just a dream.
(U.S. art amid jest)

End it... as...
as I tend.
(instead.)


Quote of the Day
“They say you are what you eat, which is precisely why I ate fine young Bernard. Though I regret to report that I feel largely unchanged, except for the part about being in prison and having a permanent case of indigestion.”

-Percy "The Cannibal" Dandridge
Fortune 500 Cookie
Nobody knows the trouble you've seen, and you'll keep it that way if you know what's good for ya, bub. Try mixing your unique brand of illiterate rage with random fits of giggling this week. People hate it when you bring your own records to be played on the jukebox—it's just a soda joint, asshole. This week's lucky piercings: throat, spleen, tear duct, tooth.


Try again later.
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