a poet down on his luck--c/c?

Divin’ in a dumpster
Hopin’ lunch I’m gonna find
Knelt on somethin’ squishy--
Just a nasty melon rind
Underneath a diaper
I spot gold, and none too soon
Basting in bum’s vomit
Lay a freshly dead raccoon.
thanks, dave. this is well on its way to becoming a proper poem.
sorry, kathy, but I was thinking curry...
schultzie--obviously, some hobo who couldn't hold his dinner. lol
 
Dave and BG want so much to "knife" of someone. Right Dave? Are you stealing my verses again Dave? They are copyright protected, you know... BG? You are an Angel. By the way my other name is Mars, Dave... You know... Ares?? LOL...around. By the way, Dave, half of the women in here are in love with me... And I picked the better one for me... Dave...
 
The poem is good but work on the flow. Good visuals---Too bad---I like raccoons----with a little salt,butter and basil. But seriously, while the protagonist was in the dumpster---did they(you) whisper for the cheese, and was there an answer? Oh that's right you're asking the question-------------nevermind---------------------william
 
I am glad (I think,gulp) I can read your poems again - but I have never eaten racoon.
Reallly, I hope I never have to.
Couldn't the dumpster have been behind a Krispy Kreme?
Then we could have had doughnuts!
 
Well I can say this makes my humble dinner seem like cuisine, although I'm not wanting to think about food after reading this. It does get the point across.
 
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