when you’re lies lack a certain panache
your gannache leaves only the teeth to gnash
you’re love affairs coming through the garage door
interpretative dance to the flight of the bumblebee
and she lacks her blue eye shadow
so now to the chase…. oh wiener dog?
how well can you call the love affair cancellation?
out to the yard and whether the lil shit burried your byrds
or an unmentionable sex toy
ever the ant under the magnifying lens?
oh but now for rieu the day.