Sunday, April 16, 2017

poets rally week 84, napa cabbage and metaphors

Andrew Schwab  "A baggage of cabbage slung over my back"
 
 
A baggage of cabbage slung over my back
It's starting to smell, but don't open the sack.
Cause for all I know it could be much more,
perhaps it will kill me, dead, onto the floor.

But as I grow weary, and my eyes get teary,
the sack seems to reek with despair.
Oh what the hell, I'll take a look.
To see what is really there.

As I come to find out, it was indeed what I thought
This "baggage of cabbage" has finally been caught.

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