Mince

Today's poem is called 'Mince'. I originally was going to write a poem about Paul Linde. I thought that it would go over too many people's heads. Maybe there is a poem about Hollywood Squares somewhere inside me waiting to get out. Something about the center square being the root of all bitchy queen answers.

Instead, I wrote about meat.


Mince (2/8)

It's a haggis day - you're eating on a blanket
int he park - there are kids and a dog - it is all so
idyllic

I'm remembering the first time I had it - 3rd
grade in front of the whole class - I was picked
on

You're gingham - the sun is 2:30 - I'm watching
the fountain for pennies - lead taste - blood taste
that's the best way to describe it