PEDIMENTARY PORTMANTEAU
I carried ice water to the fire, left my gloves in the
furnace, and went home crying in my beer : five
dollars for Mr. Sam, and two more for his daughter,
Emmy Lou. The next day, I hadn't a memory,
I hadn't a clue. And all that was so long ago
now I've even forgotten how the story ended.
So, here I am again - carrying my own luggage
to the flight that's, well, already crashed.
So lucky I never boarded that
backwards plane to Hell.
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