Some bastard asshole son
of bitch has snuck
into my pack of Camel Crush
to pop the menthol berry buried
in the filter of each and every one!
If I were drunk, it's just
the kind of thing I might have done.
So now I sit deprived of this
enjoyable little ritual of innocence,
and all I'm left is filthy-habit
decadence, with leaden head,
the heavy thoughts of vengeance
pound upon.
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