Fred Babbin

Rookie (1925 / Chicago)

Our Constipation - Poem by Fred Babbin

Who makes my heart jump for joy?
She did once. But now
We are beyond maturity.
We are the plums made prunes
To help our constipation.
So we search
For hidden answers
That are not there

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Poem Submitted: Monday, December 14, 2009

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