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Wednesday, November 26


(Written whilst my aunt was cooking Thanksgiving dinner..before she shooed me out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon. Now I am crouching in the garden as my cousin seems to have accidentally locked me out of the house)

Once you roamed so free
In a field, or wherever it is
that turkeys congregate.

Now you cook in the stove...

Auntie, stop poking me with that
Fine ,I shall get out of the kitchen

I look forward to your golden-brownish

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