Quote Verbatim Quote Sic

Rust Belt

Narrow gauge pantaloons begat the Roaring Twenties

Rugged-up to drown buggies

And sashaying mistresses

The loop couldn't stop the derringer on its way to heaven

Brooding nightstick...

Old oxy needed a gauzy jazz blimp

So the story goes, a slimeball idiom

On its way to Prohibition

Big nouns standing around, unfettered, unlettered, old father grime

Was it you, Ducky, stole my fibs?

Feelgood race ethics chasing its tail

Aurora in all her mullioned sassafras

Down by the haunted tracks

Descendants be my makeshift

Along the Tuscaloosa

The party of beer butts supports a tough laugh

Kid onus sat back & laughed

Who interviewed the oracle to age-date the slugger

Vocab yr Oshkosh to nipple her bal negre

Sauce me, baby, I got red on my rain

Leaving out the guts part gets me exactly what?

The dream sieve, waking amidships withering fallguy

Night traction, frozen select, cheap eagles, alloy

Space in which reading unravels the share-balance

Taste is adjectival, it worms and stains against the gyro

Give me a cool dry lake any day,

Apple yarns, crennelated barn snarks

Have we passed yet, the magic thrashing fashion-lid?

Sad how rye it makes, albeit on a dud nanny

It amounts to a white / ask me in September