Into the Porches
daily poems sent to The White House by Thomas Crofts
Friday, February 24, 2017
Poem XIV: MR. SQUEAKY
Mr Squeaky
has escaped!
It's been three days.
The farm has not been the same without him.
I mean
he was kind of a pervert
but his song was like
a serrated knife
every morning
tearing
the sun
a new one.
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