Mart Crashes

He flew through windows

He flew off bikes.

He flew from soft seats to hard rocks

On several flights.

He dared Doctor Death.

Poked him with a stick.

The bad doctor snatched it and

Rubbed off bark via poop shoot wick.

Ooh, that smarts!

The Bad Doctor’s sick.

But so’s nit wit.

For pushing shit.

To a calamatous culmination.

Thank you, friend.

Barry out.

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