Unaccountably, while I was making a liverwurst sandwich
(with mustard and cornichons on rye)
the poem took a dive
off the countertop, I don't know why,
onto the floor and burst into words
which can be either blunt or sharp, God knows.
There was nothing to do
but vacuum it up
eat the sandwich and, and,
put on shoes.
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Comments about this poem (Why? by Morgan Michaels )
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