This woman at the picnic table
In the big catbox where they pulled out all the small plants
And chopped the trees to shit
So she says
I got this catalogue where they sell a bra made out of diamonds
And I ask her if she thinks of her breasts as decorative sex organs
And upon hearing this
She pulls out a jeweler's loop
And pulls off her sweater
And she says
Look for yourself
My fantasies are stupid! It's safer to keep them secret!
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