SoCS: Prose from the Pod

Brush me right there On the belly square Along the soft, creamy hair If you naively dare I’m going to stay right here Not to be cavalier, but… Don’t go near Queenie dear She’s up to something, I fear I command the brush, I say It is the pampering day Hold the hairspray Human, do not walk away In the shadows I shall hide With knowledge, abide In safety simplified From Ziva’s brand of homicide Brush me, brush me now!Read more