i was about to write an ode
to a sandwich
and then i thought
tomatoes and lettuce don't really
represent
my feelings on life and love and the universe
very well.
so i ate my sandwich, and thought long and hard
about e. e. cummings
and his modernly punctuated
poems
about every poet that ever breathed before me.
and i thought ...damn.
what else is left for me to do
but trudge through the snow
wearing
someone
else's
boots?
Copyright 2005 doll on the rag
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/9853/63778 on Saturday October 11th, 2008 05:15 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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