Ode to the Zombie Stripper by Jo Hewitt

skin once carying the faintest blush palest pink white and lush, now dull and gray hanging from muscle and bone that have lost all tone this girl once the bell of the ball proud and tall hair like wheat in the driver’s seat the queen of the pole now climbing from a hole from the dead she is risen caught no more in her zombie prison she walks free full of glee  to an unkown tune she will dance and sway bringing death every step of the way from her you should turn but you want that killer burn alone you will stand listening to the music of a deadly band a crescendo of screams not in your dreams the beat she finds such a lovely treat she will rock and rip off your cock you will cry and then you will die.

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