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Comments about Rena Kay
Werewolf In New Orleans
I saw a werewolf, sitting at a table in New Orleans
Perusing the menu, waiting on the wild queens
Eyeliner of azure coated his lids, mascara too thick
He was trying to fit in, fighting to control his cowlick
The queens strolled by, their giggles too loud
The werewolf ducked his head, avoiding the crowd
He had slicked his hair, and perfumed his thick mane
But it didn't matter, he still came off lame
Into the quarters the queens gaily danced along
The werewolf jumped up to follow, wanting to belong
Slinking into the shadows, quietly matching...