[Note: I wrote this over a year ago and never posted it. I met Mel during the Flarf Festival here in New York, so I thought I'd post it.]
-after Mel Nichols
your priest catch me
steaming, his long mane
growling, blest
winning at powerball
assume
the doctoral mangroves around us
Pauly retells his nations of harvest
yet ShurSave won't carry Urdu yams
the yam washing pre-culture
pulls up for the knutes
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