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Poems By The Previous Tenant
both eating corn
on public transportation
mine nestled between chick peas
pasta entwined round itself
chopped onions
and yellow pepper
you ate yours straight off the cob
shamelessly
looking around
like, “hey I like corn”
I bring my bowl
to write this.
the hallway smelled like
ketchup
but my headphones were singing
so i finished my iced coffee
and realized I am terrible at explaining things I’m thinking.
I’ve got to find a better way to communicate
and I don’t play guitar.
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