Hot HandleA Poem by jinjahmanI worried that the pot handle would scald his little hand. This contemplation affecting the seasoning, somewhat When the digits have stacked up significantly we'll resume this scene with you nonchalently flipping the scented skillet in the air swiggin a long neck and smokin a kind of cigarette - I won't ask - What joy to contemplate not too hot to handle I imagine; and your dinner made for you!
© 2011 jinjahman |
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1 Review Added on January 14, 2011 Last Updated on January 14, 2011 AuthorjinjahmanIrelandAboutI've written songs and poems since basic maturity emerged from youth. I'm driven by reminiscence and reflection, youthful endeavours and changing realities of life. I try to explore the lexicon of th.. more..Writing
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