Pigs, chickens, rats, cats and always dogs. Bedroom live-haul and all that death where I dream. Fictitious straight shooters share half truths with meandering doubt. The yard dog blues. Plant / protein, main line, evis, cut up and pack out. Plumes of feathered souls go up in smoke or leave in trucks, dripping bloody icicles. Malevolence is a cold blue flame in a dark car. Noel. (no one ever leaves), so we sit on the curb and wait.
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