Up from the heat
A field of turnips
Giving life
To that gluey farmer
With his feet stuck
In the mud
Up on the beach
A half-eaten hotdog
Lays abandoned
A metal detector beeps
Something in the bun
Unknown riches
Up in the mountains
It's not really snow
But parmesan cheese
Sprinkled lazily
About the slope
With a giant spoon.
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2 comments:
I love your poems! ahh fuck! I'm leaving in two weeks, but only for 3 days! when (the exact date) are you coming? I don't want to miss you!!!!
I'm very entertained! You must be a very interesting person :)
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