I’m so hungry
You could put a scraper
Inside of my stomach
And not find anything
But vapours
From the food I can smell in
Your kitchen.
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This is an erratic jumble of lucid thoughts and fervid poetry, all of which is my own (unless specified otherwise). Why 'Bird Droppings'? Because I bet its completely unique (in this context that is), and because the ideas that clamp onto my brain are not mine but belong instead to the stratosphere... hovering in giggling mists above my head until they drop. Like droppings :) Thank you for visiting. And do comment!
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