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  Alcofribas Nasier II

i pay for
the insults flashing
on the screen
til i press delete,
delete, delete
yeah, i’ll bite
any day, sweetheart
once the whiskey’s
gone & the high rollers
have stopped
rolling my way
leaving me w/
a pittance in a
tin cup sure as hell
beats rubbernecking
on this street
you got your
timid whizgangers
trying to pound
death into submission
w/ their fancy shoes
wreaking havoc
on the tar where
we misfits
are trying to hold up the pavement
our noses full of hootch
as we weave slowly forward
motivated by the next booze up
or a few last drags of a cigarette
still smouldering on the road

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