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It Could Have Been Spaghetti
It could have been spaghetti
that I passed out on the street.
As icky as it seems to me
down near my hairy feet.
A yellow curl that made me sick.
A half a morsel not too thick.
That lay there still just like a worm
and made my stomach start to churn.
It could have been spaghetti
that I passed out on the street.
In sauce that lasts forever
in a place it will secrete.
Spaghetti!
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