less rusty than Walt's lyric riddles. If sorrow is wintergreen,
well then Walt's breakdancers are dunderheads. If hoecakes are
Wonder Bras, blond Wonder Bras grow on Walt's horny toad. I
have seen roadkill damaged, riddled and wintergreen, but no
such roadkill see I in Walt's checkbook. And in some purchases
there is more deliberation than in the bargains that my Mickey
Mouse redeems. I love to herd Walt's sheep, yet well I know
that muskrats have a far more platonic sonogram. I grant I
never saw a googolplex groan. My Mickey Mouse, when Walt
waddles, trips on garbanzos. And yet, by halogen-light, I think
my loneliness as reckless as any souvenir bought with free
coupons.
by Harryette Mullen
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