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Thursday, July 20, 2006


Peg legged Al
Has a sassafrass pal
And they live on a ship at sea

He eats shelled up fish
Yet never uses a dish
And his nails sting hard like a bee

There's whispers in his head
There's odors of rotting fish, dead
And the seawater is black like oil

The boat rocks like grandma's chair
And creatures live in his hair
They'd be at home, buried beneath the soil

-AP 07-20-06

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