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Dean Bonsignore
Poems
May 2010
Zombies or Bank Clerks?
They shuffle their feet
They trip and they moan
They have soulless eyes
They bite and they groan.
Their all wearing suits
Their hair's falling out
Their teeth are decayed
Their guts strewn about.
Well thats what I saw
When I went to the bank
But I guess that I have
Mondays to thank.
Written by
Dean Bonsignore
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Judy Ponceby
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