"Nashville Daybreak in the park; plus, a Wheaten Terrier"
A rise outta fading Moon
Towards relaxation--resonating our blessed boon--
Now: Daystar ignited on wintry Nashville morn
Until Exxon buys the Sun with hyper-capitalistic scorn;
Regardless, somethings are (with noble attempt) magnanimously free,
And after wending the Wheaten alongside the foxy, Little Harpeth River, it like a creek--
I pilot the scrappy V-6 as swift as my gaseous tract,
As if a girl thinking herself scorned does launch an attack,
And the potty-rooms are locked to keep the illegals out,
Though they might have meticulously cleansed it with compulsive clout;
Otherwise, a shimmering pubic hair, curled sooooo grotesque,
Would further freak my inspired and multi-woven complex.
