Thursday, October 12, 2006

Sartre On The Rocks

I am nauseated by Martin Scorsese's eyebrows...
Like standing up in a rowboat after drinking too much Jaegermeister...
Like e-coli spinach rotting slowly in the warehouse of my guts...
Like Darfur, like bad Boston accents, like spinning myths out of cheap spaghetti...
I am nauseated by Martin Scorsese's eyebrows...
Have you seen them dance?
There used to be a chicken down on Canal Street, in an arcade,
Who used to dance, but the arcade is gone,
the chicken is long roasted --
Obsolete, your services are no longer needed...
You have been replaced by Martin Scorsese's eyebrows...

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