The Milk Hunter

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The milk hunter goes
Skulking slowly cross the tiles
Flashing grimy bemused smiles
Round and round like a sneaky mink
Till he knows of his white smothered prey
And I know he’ll wait till the dead of night
And all else is out of sight so he can strike
Pounce out to the shell white halls
And rip open that silver fridge
He will see it; his prey, his muse, his light
That loose carton of 2% cow made milk
Oh how he has learned, how he has waited
To sneak out from the dark and make straight
And escape with that creamy cocoa treat
And oh god how angered I am now
When I come down from below
Looking for an escape from disbelief
And see the mauled carcass of a carton
Tipped over on the counter;
Fuck… I really wanted some milk.


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