a study toward sonnet #817 by FisherKingKQJ
Them streets of Auckland are little kinder
For blokes like you with a showy handicap;
I would march forward as your minder
To shield you from any gag or slow clap.
She knows of your incubator mishap,
Her Siamese sister wants you just the same;
She gave my bum a friendly, bossy slap,
Said I could bank five grand in your bad name.
She said that life was nothing but a game,
My genetic disease not worth the tweak
Fed me free coffee, then took back the blame,
I said that we're queer bashers as we leak.
Life is a scratchie card or bent trust fund,
You wed, my pretty teller way outgunned.
(Chorus)
o $10,000 fund
o $10,000 bank
o $10,000 pool
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]