This Is Just To Say
go fuck yourself
Keeper of Plums,
bogarting their sweetness
for your own tongue
and all the tongues
that look like your tongue
while so many others
feast on twigs for dessert,
their mouths sharp
with splinters, and goddamn
there are so many plums
in your ice chest,
so ripe and so cold,
enough for everyone.
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Love the William Carlos Williams allusion-cum-antithesis, or, I guess it seems to be more like Dr. Williams’ shadow-self reacting.