A murder of lawyers in overcoats
A murder of lawyers in overcoats
A murder of lawyers in overcoats, shoulders up, heads slung low, looking like a swarm of M's swarming the crosswalk. Looking up at a window on the forty-fourth floor. Blueeyed Jew Mystic from a rhythm section, his hands cupped around the dignified hijiki of human speech. m**m baritones idle with their hands down
And the gat that fattens your jacket pocket
Plugs slugs in vain
Through the body of the immaterial witness
And that which is Ugly and feeds on The Law comes into the conference room singing federal jargon. Their necks are covered in chocolatey growths. Spat up an eyeful of steam in the lumber yard parking lot
Written in her own sh** with a ground down fork
Written in her own sh** with a ground down fork
Written in her own sh** with a ground down fork
Written in her own sh** with a ground down fork