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Squeezing The Oleo

Where have the crickets gone
like pesos of Cisco and Poncho
the grandfather clock snores
listening to the kitchen gadgets  
as Mama squeezes the oleo  
 
with no time for the sacraments
or self-rising biscuit of Grandpa
whistling from the grave
finetuning his battle-axe  
watching twilight thaw
 
and I can't ignore the shadow
of Mr. Potato Head laughing  
filing it's long fingernails
and waxing its moustache  
as Mama squeezes the oleo  
 
 
 
Written by PaleSkies
Published
Author's Note
Nightmares are like memories.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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