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- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Real Estate
Poem Info
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Teddy got busted with a bag of scrabble tiles. He played the blues and I sang. Asked me if I wanted to join him naked in the parking lot for a game. I told him I hate scrabble. He's likely to jam up all the real estate. Cut throat. I've been bitten before. On his guitar he played a little of this and a little of that.
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