Yeah. I started reading 'em. Reminded me of ... somebody back home, so. I asked her for some recommendations and we got to talking about it. You a fan?
An insomniac fellow named Hatches Took a room in a whorehouse in Natchez He still tossed and turned half the night, but he learned How to manage by sleeping in snatches.
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Yeah, most of the ones I knew before were dirty.
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Oh, of course they were.
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Hey! Why do you sound unsurprised! 's not like I wrote them!
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I'm flattered, really, that you think I'm clever enough to write poetry.
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they recite: ]
An insomniac fellow named Hatches
Took a room in a whorehouse in Natchez
He still tossed and turned
half the night, but he learned
How to manage by sleeping in snatches.
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[ wehehehehehe ]
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[it's not his fault he doesn't know what a snatch is!!]
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he follows, though, arms folded as well as he can manage with his broken-ass arm.]
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they will slow down to let him walk next to them after a moment, though, still preening. ]
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...it is pleasant here, I think. A relief that it cannot be used for murder.
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Mmhm. I like parts of this place a lot, actually. Even if it's uh. Y'know.
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Feathers are just made that way.
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[but he's just grumbling, pausing to look at some of the roses.]
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[ ehehe. they do pause, glancing over curiously at the roses when emet does. ]