Poetry Writing

Come Cook Microwave

She said it was the biggest one she’d ever seen

Come fill me, oh my wonder
Come touch Plains Indians
Come cook microwave
Think of the old hag with the doll hair
Think of the fig vinegar stench
Think Resurrection
Virginia Woolf
Lyin’ on her back

From the skull to the soles is one unit
The skull to the chin
One eighth

(c) 1991 & 2014,Jim Lemanowicz

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