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SURLITUDINOUS
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Barrels squandered palm and mango,

my hands are lovely, all squishy,

just the way you like it.  Poof! she said, not growlingly

and I concurred.  We have such soft polish, don’t we?

Sleeping is not easy, dear.

The road ahead sanded stinging nettles

Sedona and a little western-style saddle;

On the side and kinda angry

I started to cry when the man gave me

five crumpled $20s and a packet of new herring.

Angly, squarish, curvellicious, emblickled.

I have a ways to go before I awaken voluntarily,

unless, of course, I’m in your arms.

 

Susan Smith Nash

February 11, 2003