this morning I opened the laptop
to pieces of a fried mystery filling
the spaces around the G and H
where the index fingers huddle to think
I remember the poem was worthy
the snack definitely a homerun
typing at dusk means squinting
making everything else that
transpires of secondary importance
I bet it’s happened to you as well
how you really couldn’t help
in your more impassioned moments
what slipped out of your mouth
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