A Wished Contact With Kids
I don’t care on which street
But I should like to meet
Kids like a new pin neat,
By sweat untouched in heat,
No causeless itching
To storm a kitchen
And there wolfishly eat
What isn’t really sweet
Only in rumors a nice treat
And started by a chef who also finished it:
Kids in the coziness of cushion seats
Avoiding their irksome sheep’s bleat.
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