Archive 10/08/09 - (2)

   

Foraging

                                                                  

 

I parked beside a cornfield and reached for a stalk,

Craving ripened maize —

As many ears of tender meat as I could shuck and eat,

 

To sate my ravenous appetite for grain,

Placate my gut's need to feed it, keep peristalsis churning,

My innards burning up energy, to fire my furnace.

 

But when I tried to bite into that golden provender,

My upper and lower front teeth fell out,

Indistinguishable from the cow-corn kernels on the cob.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                               

 

10/08/09 - (2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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