Water to salt to that there stire,
of pots and grits,
Cry to yam to ham, to near yes i am,
Like a refrigator to that here plate,
to damn near good grace.
To two good of eatting, but after i think i look to list,
it remind me of that,
near good love of female compante,
So what is a man to do when the freshes goes near empty,
but reminscence of h-e-r,
food & love,
where the crush.
hungry for more....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem