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My stuntman days are Numbered William Z. Saunders

Here are a few poems I wrote and it is o.k.

Tin Man painting a patriarchal portrait of my olde man, now to hit the pay window the boy could sure pitch a demonstration give him a free-on can‌ monkey man teflon Don Juan always

armed to his false teeth Oh mother of pearl pocket knives, push button blades, packing a puny pistol, I mean deringer‌ a one shot, one hitter quitter Pall Mall homicidal rock and roller would rather pet my poodle

than push a stroller. I’m a man Im an Arkansas traveler got me a plaque hanging on my wall says so I’m a pitbull breader I’m a 24 karat front man

had too many dogs to name Jack Rustler Hustler listen to my hound dogs slowly dying fast Goddamn I work like a nigger Just to come home to this Domestic bliss T.C.BhRolex wrist, watch yer back! diamond pinky punk in a brand new cadillac

been there, done that‌ 7 or 8 kids quit counting after Zach 24 karat front man had too many dogs to name beat myself up, knocked myself out of the ring out-of-town away from the family game

wore hisself out of breath you was in the daddy business a long time

4 letter words free burn iron lung cool buzz dust head pink dick held high dank nugs funk tank

hook worm bake pies deep pool tent city last year dang crud well used good will loud fool

pink fuzz dirt road wall ball acid drop bear cult fart lord wind surf iron lung dick dent

pull jobs bait shop meth cook fast food boat dock neon gulf push wood dark soul gold mind

drug mule poor monk skin mags cats game fist fest piss test jump ship junk deal make nice

suck face back seat wild pony stay hard felt good salt pork moon rise lost near

(make for some nifty knuckle tattoos)

My stuntman days are numbered  
My stuntman days are numbered  

Two poems by William Z. Saunders