after Strange Vines (an erasure) by BBB
Africa with dirty
fingernails writing villages of white
(fever eraser on a pencil sickness)
rice, sticky and
a dollop of butter. And water
vining from the tap
in a strange sink. Don't
stare when they drink, dear. And
don't write that.
Tuesday poem #653 : Chris Johnson : screaming kids
14 hours ago
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