Except for MaybeA Poem by Kilgore Trout, Jr.Nothing can be said When the death hits home While you push your shopping cart Along the reflective black and white tiles Shelves of packaged canned food with half-lives of five hundred years stacked on either side Looking for something good for dinner Except for maybe, “F**k!” Heath Houseman.
© 2013 Kilgore Trout, Jr. |
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Added on November 7, 2013 Last Updated on November 7, 2013 |