Ten thousand hounds without a backup
could not in a dog's age have ever trapped me.
It took the Queen of Hearts' blooming baboons
in high hats, trumpets blaring, fully armed
on the snorting chargers of The Light Brigade
troopers of dandified britches
of godawful effeminate ways,
their ladyships in tow,
the whole of England it took to hunt me.
Here will I be bloodied
here will I be murdered,
and butchers of the world get this ---
not even will they fillet me
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
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