Sex and death in the same breath
Profundity? What was that for?
I've got ghillie-suited snipers
Knocking at my door.
You say you smelled smoke?
You spoke too soon. I've doused
The flames. Curtains of shame
Drape plastic window panes.
Acrid as a Larkin street whore
I've been. Sorry, I'll truck with men.
Sound alarms for poor Mr. Yorke:
He needs surprises, but when?
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