Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Random Thoughts While Feeding Chickens


Dark as Othello's ill-used Moor
But not with beautiful ebony flesh is he suddenly colored.

Feeding the chickens,
I said:
It's icy..."
But he was "All done!"

On his rump
in the mud
he grabbed me.

My tan coat now shades darker
Panicking at the filth on his hands
"Ewww--" he shakes them.

Frantic, this boy with normally filthy fingernails.

I think back to a strange t-shirt.
"Who Flung Poo?" it read.

Now I know,
Something far worse than egg on my face.


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