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Drunk Strut

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Off the cob corny talk

Hammer headed stories stalk prey

Like a boozed up, used up, floosie yelling, "Hey!" loosely

With globes for a chest

Swaying on the corner-- strutting her best.

 

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Tad_Winslow You're currently reading the poem Drunk Strut, which was posted on Oct 23, 2009 by Tad_Winslow.

This is a collaborative poem.

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