Down by the river of witches I dug up the corpse of Lloyd Bridges
He looked unwell as his **** was marked with hemorrhoid  ridges
His grayish brains were small, shriveled, unusable & dry parched
like Martin Luther King's **** cleft after he'd preached & marched
Lloyd loved me much more than he loved turkey for Thanksgiving
before rotting by the putrefying process after he had stopped living