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A-Rat-A-Tat-Tat.
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
'A-rat-a-tat...
Tat-tat-tat.'
No more do I eat fried fat back.
Or smothered pork chops,
To put pounds on my thighs...
Butt or back!
Biscuits are my weakness,
So I ain't touching that.
Neck bones I leave alone.
And other greasy meats,
I don't eat.
I prefer to ignore that,
And them I don't condone!
Too sleazy for me.
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
'A-rat-a-tat...
Tat-tat-tat.'
I do my best to eat fresh vegetables.
With a prepared fresh salad...
Adding fruits and nutts,
To keep my energy up!
Lots of exercise I do!
And conscious to take naps.
With meditation and deep breathing...
To keep my body sleek.
Everyday of the week!
With a diet less treated by soft drinks,
And preprocessed sweets.
I do what I can to be energized...
And my eyes kept open wide,
No aches and pains I'm going to sigh.
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
Oh.
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
Oh.
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
Oh.
'A-rat-a-tat...
Tat-tat-tat.
Hey?
Wait a minute!
But...
Do you or do you not,
STILL smoke cigarettes? '
Whose confession is this?
'Yours.'
Exactly.
You keep tapping out that rhythm.
And I'll deal with my conscious...
Guilts and other facts!
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
Oh.
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
Oh.
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
Oh.
'A-rat-a-tat...
Tat-tat-tat.'
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
Oh.
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
Oh.
'A-rat-a-tat-tat.'
You got it!
Oh.
'A-rat-a-tat...
Tat-tat-tat.'
poem
by
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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