Tri-Me Poem by Amos Motlanthe

Tri-Me



I can make you nonsense
in less than a thought
that is a single
thought
of you naked in thy room
your bed and pillow
case
smelling fish
finger liking good

sweet heart of my heart
swallowed in a tin of pasta
eaten to heaven in November
my birthday
hip-hip hooray
God bless the whole summer

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