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| Bread ( a prose poem) | David Copperfield | valeries calories | In my room... | My Brother's orange tongue | Boredom | I spied a spider | Well spoiled.. | Hmm.. | I enjoy puting a pencil into my head | |
| A prose poem Bread I like good looking bread. Bread that's willing. The kind of bread that's found in dreams of hunger. And so it was that I met such a bread. I had knocked on a door (I sometimes do that to keep my knuckles in shape), and a women of huge doughy proportions (she had that unbaked, unkneaded look) appeared holding a rather good-looking loaf of bread. I took a bite and the loaf began to cry . . . Russell Edson |