End Of The World

It’s the end of the world, do we live or do we die?
Runnin’ ’round like headless chickens, catchin’ fallen lumps/bits of sky.
If I can’t spend my money now, when can I burn it all?
I’m gonna treat myself real good, no more skrimpin’ like a prol.

After the push ‘n’ shove of the Black Friday scuffle,
I sit at home and realize:

she tastes like truffles.





©29.2.2020 Andrew Robert Chapman

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