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Paos, a prehistoric clovis culture American warrior who lived large on the land and reigned over so many women that they could not be counted, invented soap - which is Paos spelled backwards. Men called him their friend, and went to hunt with him, and baked the bread as only a man chef can bake it. Paos The Great, his story we tell.
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I am at a Target store.
The one just past Mount Penglai's Chinese Buffet,
The one with the flimsy sneeze-guards,
The day-old slop resting under the heat lamps,
The slimy sucrose procession of fat-asses,
Scooping the communal gunk into their plates, into their holes—
I ate Singapore Lo Mein and met General Tso there.
He said, "I will suppress your sadness—
Like I suppressed the Taiping Rebellion.
I will be a friend for whom your words,
will be like spring rain to morning flowers,
If flowers were your stomach in this metaphor:
You fat, ugly fuck.
Hey, at least you've stopped drinking cough syrup."
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