broom
raze a broom's mislaid
bristle bites into
the bed of one
stunned sock —
the thinnest piece
of pasta i've ever
plucked from the
pad of my least
loyal foot.

crooked and uncooked,
it tastes of childhood
misadventure when
i tuck it between
two teeth and tell
them to return
the favour.
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what's it to you?
who go
blather
from