Sitting around the fervid black shrine hypnotizes me as Jon-Jon my beagle lies like
Road kill after his nightlong rabbit scented orgy. Flicking snow off my boots onto the stove
Makes it hiss and spit like Cleopatra's asp. I should go to bed its 4am but the steaming water
Pot has me under its spell. I place my boots on the radiant surface like a yajna sacrifice ritual
Until the rubber melts into my toes. They say do not burn the comics or Creosote Snoopy will
Give off mustard gas killing all around. I shake the exhaust pipe to loosen the flakes, I fumble
Back to my cold bed, hoping Ill wake up again and I will wonder why my boots wont come off.
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