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Ode to Corn

My teeth crunch into golden heaven, savoring fresh cream and salt. This is my tenth - wait, no - eleventh cob of corn. Time for a malt. Corn cob, Mom, Bob, Can't have another? We love each other, so you must. Cob of corn, my golden heaven, After you I love to lust.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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Date: 2/6/2021 11:19:00 AM
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Date: 7/4/2018 12:14:00 AM
I just saw where you don't like corn on the cob?!?! I can't even imagine!
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Date: 7/4/2018 12:13:00 AM
It's hard to beat farm fresh corn on the cob!
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Date: 7/3/2018 7:31:00 AM
P. S. I do not actually like corn on the cob; my poems do not necessarily reflect my opinions.
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