Pass the Starbuck


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So occasionally when you’re sitting in Starbucks with a friend, you’ll write some poetry. Totally normal.

Basically, we gave each other a word, and then wrote a quick poem. Below is the result of being given the word “duck.”

duck, a poem

Duck, duck goose
this chick is loose
with words
with thoughts
with time.
And when she pecks
intent is sex
and quack, that bird is fine.

I also wrote a poem about Valentine’s Day a day later. But it was much worse. And a joke about Cupid. Judge me.

Cupid, the Valentine Monster

I am the Valentine monster
slick with sweat
as I fly, fly, fly,
catching bugs in my great white wings—
my great white butt
exposed to the wind.

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