Hey, Grace, have you seen my face
Hey, Grace.
Do you know where I last left my face?
Did I happen to leave it in your lap, after taking that quick nap?
Or perhaps, after that embrace, did I leave it in your narrow crawlspace?
No? Oh, crap!
She said, "Oh, that just can't be!
This poem has no semblance to reality!"
I said, "How can you say that,
when it's painfully clear that
it's the reality of me!”
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