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By Susan Swanton

When I eat fiber
Tomato paste runs wild
In the streets of Big Sur.
I’m a flower child

Eating ten million
Almonds a day
And ten trillion
Times the buffet.

I flit like twenty-five hummingbirds.
I pewp one thousand enchiladas.
It wasn’t even considered
A rest stop of Nevada.

I hear drums from the gas tank.
Stop looking at me, Uncle Frank.

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