no scruples but a wet wing
stuck to the cover of a pamphlet
describing the intricate workings
of a cold-mist humidfier
no body found
until three days later
crawling under the bed
little survivor
gotta hand it to him
then crush his cursed body
better luck next life
wish him all the best
the greatest pleasures
laid out on a rumpled bed
pants off, greased ass ahead
rye in hand, ice cubed throat
in one moment, snuffed out
without a thought
buzzed too close, friend
buzzed too close
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