Whoever brought me will have to take me homeFrom somewhere I have copied down: Is there anything but but? ![]() I did not copy this down. ![]() This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say. I will not say anything about winter. I will say "Write a poem about finding an avocado on a train." An avocado! On a train! ![]() I will say "Write a poem about crayons up noses." About whether to stand up or sit down when— You know I agree with it all. ![]() Like paprika. This is something true. It is anything but but. A fucking avocado. There's no winter in that. |
|
||||
Copyright © 1999 – 2024 Juked |
![]() |