With Child Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

By the time she reads this
I'll be in Alabama.
I ate the ham and pasta stew
and cleaned the fridge
of all those tings desirable.

But it was hot and I am poor.
You are my cousin, (never met) ,
and ought to understand,
and scold me not, you know
I have to feed not one but two.

By the time you read this
I'll be in Alabama.
The fellow was so nice
and took my bag up to the bus.
I am in love again, dear cousin
are you happy? Because I think
we both could be the flowers
of magic deserts rolling spinifex forever.