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The Ballad of Ernst Borgnine
I like winter
because it is not hot
--a slippery eel
of electricity
(down my pants, down my pants.
Uno, dos, tres.
Romance languages are coffee beans
not going through the grinding
--catapult love
(right here from a safe spot
throw your kisses and punches;
throw them! Throw them!
Coffee and snow,
glow and afterglow;
everything sparkles
on a snowed field.
Look at you!
Long time no see.
Seitse © 2010