Sitting on a couch
in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere
is not the place to be
if you love food
cooked
or things that look like opossum
in the middle with
a white triangle face
and rat's tail
My story starts with one
and ends with the death
in cheese food
of a stranger
He had served
his purpose and I
could do nothing
Thoughts I've had, poems I've written and anything else I think might be interesting.
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