Feet Get Seats Off

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[audio:https://killauthor.com/audio/issueten/rc_miller_1.mp3|titles=Feet Get Seats Off|artists=RC Miller]

I carelessly fray at the bar until dawn.
Lucifer then fries the flattest bacon jauntily.
Dawn downloads valuable coupons about a crunch
Sequence and a litterbox clean end.
One of trillions ejected, I’ve matured into some
     deterministic will trophy.

Adorable witches and fairies promote the
Most erotic disinfectants.
Gators floss tigers after Europa is analized.
My mite infested geyser shares bills instead of hats.
There’s plenty I ooze even if money’s dying.

A big chunk out of my wallet cries nascent
     forests of filet mignon.
A cup of carrots hair a chopped savanna rare.
How must my testes look and feel?
Sunspots flare even when they display the same condition as
That Barack Obama inaugural doll.