The Altar Stones
Enfrock'd in aqua-color'd robes,
the Alts ply lyres astride great globes,
then dance past oscillating strobes
to tunes of Leopold's. (Or Loeb's.)
Their gigs end badly -- as did Job's --
once Fatha' Fats, on flute, disrobes.
The EPA's conducting probes:
affront, do Alts, fans' frontal lobes.
the Alts ply lyres astride great globes,
then dance past oscillating strobes
to tunes of Leopold's. (Or Loeb's.)
Their gigs end badly -- as did Job's --
once Fatha' Fats, on flute, disrobes.
The EPA's conducting probes:
affront, do Alts, fans' frontal lobes.
(publicity photo to come)
(to be continued)
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