Best Poem of L. E. Fignon

Methyl Love
Why must it be so impossible to dine,
When it costs three-hundred and forty nine,
To walk outside,
Both wet and dry.

With only shoes,
Gathered news,
That drags you feet over feet,
Tripping you four cluckings over the beef. . . .
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Continuum Dream
“Its beauty provoked in me,
A flame of scarlet lust,
Further public indecency,
And I grapple you at once”.

“Tis all for redemption,
Hold high my mace and chalice,
His postea earns contention,
To black out my dear Alice? ”
. . .
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