Wreckage, Havoc, Bloodshed, War
they conjugate themselves each
morning in my Alphabits cereal.
I eat them just the same as the gibberish,
noun, verb, gerund or participle
without regard to context
grinding them to powder, chewing
ten left, ten right and swallowing
down to let my stomach do to them
whatever it is that stomachs do.
You are what you eat is a tired
old cliche, but I think it anyway
as I lift my hand off a smushed fly.
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