Who Needs Mice?
Leaning forward,
while reaching
his morning love note
from paper folds
of her pen words
they jumped out
to strike each other
on their way
from shirt pocket,
twin wood matches
mated in gas pool
fresh spilled from
Agway guy
just then driven
away...
overfilled five-hundred
gallon flames
Karl was leaning to.
][<en
--
To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the
uncoffee-ed, or to change your settings, go to:
<http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/bullamanka-pinheads.html>