Chicano Poet

Friday, March 26, 2010


I’m talking to Robert Frost,
I’m estimating the cost.

He's wanting a mending wall
at the strip mall.

Winter is long gone,
leaving us rhyming in the sun.

Robert’s got a little horse
which looks a lot like Harold Norse.

He’s taking him to the very farmhouse
whose owner always acts a louse.

We don’t talk much about art,
lest we give his little horse a start.


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