kvetching old lady, so sour
in her nest of children dreams on six legged horses
in her web of silk envied by burlap boys
in the pits of the olive mine,
clutching squealing canaries born to sing a blacklung song
opera of nails on blackboards driving
thru with fries and a shake and kvetchup sauce
all over the dumbphone
12-8-17 Mt Tabor
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