like a mostly beastly counterpart in some world-war fiction novel
he sauntered over and up to me and asked me what’s the trouble
I told him I’d been breeding and he assumed that I meant fish
so he came home to see my collection and brought a feeding dish
he entered through the chest of drawers, looking slightly puzzled
“well, where are they?” he cried, so I showed him on the double
there’s a blonde’s, a brunette’s, and that one’s janis joplin’s
“is that real, what’s that bit there?” he pointed, sending them topplin’
we couldn’t stay so we got out and left it for the warden
who, we were sure, was already frought with boredom
and we fell down onto edison street, decided to get a bite to eat

but we could only find salty tacos and tacos are mexican food and you know I don’t like colombians so I just laid down in the street to die