A legal nut job. A flamingo clothes hanger. A mud puddle snob. A Bethlehem banger. A blackbird heart in a doctor's right hand. A rapist dying on the hot sand.
When the knife stinks, when the bees wish, when I'm feeling had, I simply remember my favorite things, and then I feel so bad.
Flesh colored Christmas lights. Concealed grammar. 19th century street fights. Women with fat glamour. Abortionists free to clip wings in the night, a contortionist laughing with great height. When the fire spits, when the tea party sings, when I'm feeling had, I simply remember my favorite things, and then I feel so bad.
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