Manchester's gay hamlet

has long since been a sanctuary

for parlor princesses to sway their tits free

from thick veined impalers who skirted the moat;

their hot swords smoking from pint piss.

One often forgets that

cemented with the secret elixir

 of man's love for man's folly;

it was a safe and sordid Avalon.

Often lulled by the music

or some other bul...

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