The Platter Poem by RIC BASTASA

The Platter



You know, death doesn’t exist, he said to her.
I know, yes, now that I’m dead, she answered.
Your two shirts are ironed, in the drawer.
The only thing I’m missing is the platter.

Sunday, October 3, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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RIC BASTASA

RIC BASTASA

Philippines
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