commanchees twelve o-clock

Page

I think beneath that bush
there are two commanchee indians
blending into the leaves of it, the bush,

watching me eat this taco for my snack

it’s not a chocolate chip cookie
it’s not a bowl of ice cream with some good syrup
it’s not pudding
it’s not those nutter butters and I don’t have milk
it’s not a betty crocker cake and icing
it’s not a lot of oreos
it’s not popcorn
it’s not brownies

I’m eating the taco without any fillings
it’s just a shell
and I don’t have any coke



………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
enjoy another poem: cupboard ground coffee
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

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