Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Spud

Fine. I’ll write a poem that’s not erotic.
I’ll write about potatoes,
plain old potatoes,
rough, dirty potatoes,
hard, dirty potatoes,
dirty, dirty potatoes,
with their smooth curves
that so perfectly fill the hand,
so firm,
so round,
so…

…so hungry.

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Published in: on June 9, 2011 at 11:31 pm  Comments (2)  
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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. I’m not entirely convinced that this poem isn’t erotic

    • I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’re seeing an erotic subtext in this poem, that is ENTIRELY a symptom of your dirty, dirty mind.


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