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Lunch

By capanelliChron, Fair Haven, NJ

I sit, with my legs
Pretzel-ed up, I twist
And contort
To conform.
But what a useless task,
To conform,
When my neighbor
Chomps
And chews
And grazes,
He is a mule, we have engineered
Eating pure byproduct,
Content to be unloved.

I don't love
Them.
Disgusting,
I see, he spits and
Chews
While globs
Of chewed
Spit
And disgusting
Unloved
Unwanted.....

I turn.
Across the vast sea
A plain of dark carpet

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