Treasure Island

Rena Kay


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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

[Hata Bildir]