Poems from egats

Departed
If it wrote a poem, it would be a a greasy, three-times deep fried, jelly filled, old fashioned,  sour kraut topped, english muffin, octo-...
Just admit That you Don't Can't Won't Ever be able to understand me, never ever be, ever be  
Your telephone You talk to me throughWiretapped by The president's dogChef BoyardiPeter FondaA fairy called GabrielHester PyrnneKing...
i's that we had at the round table telepathic little smirk ms. big success yeah, yo te recuerdo more often than tú imagines más que las...
I bake carrot cake I bake carrot cake for the birthdays and beyond Even though I hate carrot cake I bake the damn thing and my hands are...

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