forever young
forever young
em = By Phil McManus
each day we move toward our death,
each night the darkness
closes in, we grow a little older
and death's domain is extended.
death cannot touch the staff at McDonald's.
they age like clothing models
in saliva stimulating uniforms,
their face covered in pimples
like a strawberry milkshake,
with one eye on the employment pages
in search of another job
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