ever fall in love in a kitchen?
ever fall for love on a local call at a long distance rate,
in the damn cold that was blessed,
alert as you were to the charges that would follow?
how about the recipe for the remedy:
a stack'd sandwich suggested by a sister-loving comedienne :
" you should get the bib lettuce, baby, with that," she said,
you whyin' in your black and tan.
how about it, weepy sleeve relief, go for joke :
wiping your dry eyes on her shirt
- she's never worn a blouse nor born a houseguest, one tough
brahmin, this one, works for the common good and could
guard the library of congress -
{kind of friend we all can praise}
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