Monday, November 17, 2008


I am the floater,
the plump-bellied,
hairy-chested, floater.

Stretch my wings,
with long drawn sigh,
stare up into the sky.

With short breast-stoke,
float on over,
wading as a plover.

A point of chin,
Engage chit-chat,
Pitty-pat, pitty-pat.

Will you eat my succulent meat?
Will you drink wine from my bota?

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