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The Divorce of Mr. and Mrs. Moore She was a serious bore And he couldn’t take it anymore He walked out the door He settled the score He talks folklore to a whore who does her chore. On the foggy seagully sandy shore She implores the Gods. She tries to ignore Advice, gossip, lies, and lore. Her friends have told her about the whore and Mr. Moore And there are surely more lies in store— She wells up:“This can’t go on anymore.” VeryTired, he sleeps on the floor, TheTV chiaroscuroing his canker sore-d mouth. Open, snore. Nightmare: 1-bedroom. Deadbeat-Dad-Poor. He’s laid out like a lamb before The ritual: his heart to be torn open—blood and gore And guts and buttery popcorn from the store. That day that begins the divorce, the last day of l’amour. 54 ...

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