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Ragtime
My name is Keyless Entry. I lecture On Spanish olives. Tie a lamb chop around my neck And I’ll draft you a Byronic stanza. I’ll feed George Herbert’s IQ to Liverpool quarrymen.
I must hover over your patio brick, Peep with this pen to tune your grand piano. Jacob wrestled with an angel on Bob Dylan’s Beach towel, because snakes have two penises,
As Einstein was quick to point out. You can’t take A warehouse out for steak. Leave the Vermeer Chair empty, Porgy. For the finale, we’ll play “Krakens on Crackers,” and remember to smile.
Nobody loses sleep like fiends of the backbeat. If you don't carry stamps you're not a poet.
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