Prose

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A Proser's Poem, Pre-Depression

written by: fuimaprophet

Dolled up the hoofers, live wire, live up the joint.
Everything is jake, dead soldiers and ossified owls. This Sheba's the berries, the Cat's Meow; just a deb, too. And here some sap upchucks some Rubes for the dame, but she's swanky enough and keeps it cool. High-hatting, she's still keen. She doesn't want the jack, she wants you to level with her. Maybe douse her in little silver orchids. But if you don't pipe down, she'll give you the shiv. She's the Real McCoy.

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