Along the street, a delivery van’s pop music approaches and recedes with a faint Doppler effect, the cheerless band lifting and dipping a microtone.
If it had been any other beast which knocked me down but that poley heifer, I should have been hurt.
I'm talking about everybody getting crunk, crunk / Boys tryin' to touch my junk, junk / Gonna smack him if he getting too drunk, drunk
Officially, I started practicing therapy right after I cut my long hippie hair (the Jewish version of the Cher, “I Got You Babe” years) and got my first Donna Summers disco perm.
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