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torra

Joseph Torra

The Farmer Panics

Who owns
which galaxy?

Which galaxy
more planets?

Who drives
the white pickup

with gold
hood ornament—

pearl inlaid
steering wheel?

One town over
they paint porches green.

Part of a nine
year plan to

bring corn syrup
to them there hills.

Handful of
seeds, yeast

and a beast—
make shooting star

out of firefly.
On clear days

smell the money
in that chicken shit.

     
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