Lyndon Johnson's housecat's phantom is here
And he gets pale,
when I'm leaning more toward the smaller sword.
The feline shifts from merely lines to air.
So I'm leaving,
I'm leaving my house with the smaller sword.
Clownfish cohabitate with the sting of death.
And car-phones have only got 14 minutes left.
And we'll all be better off,
when their songs have all been lost
with every sentence sinking
as it clicks against the coral floor
and it seems as if we're winning by the growing league
of all of the smaller swords
leaning at the panel by the door,
and I creep in removing their necks from their tensioned wires
the headline names the two assassins slain,
and they say that the suspect may have used
a smaller sword.
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