Friday, April 14, 2006

The Adventures of Kudos the Poet - Part IX

Dark strawberries tasted moist to Kudos. He lingered upon each syllable of strawberry, but who could forget a satellite dish? It served as an oval hammock.

Kudos was elbows of cool, and I recalled the only trampoline that ever knew me well. Its looseness prevented me from reaching too high. That was me with the essential glasses, front row, near the center of the photograph with the other short kids.

Meditative playground, come back to me as if you wanted everyone upon you. Kudos pretended not to notice a tangerine butterfly. In the form of a sandwich, a family member can talk your voice back into your mouth. Fear can make the voice of another your own. Kudos, soon enough, you will leave the security of pancakes again.


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