And then inevitably that agonizing question
What do you want to do for lunch
My always hungry buddha-brother asks
And this after he's already eaten
Half the world crumb-stars fallen
On my newly greening lawn
How about tacos at the Casa Azul
With that sauce that makes you drool
Or share a golden omelet by the pool
And feed the everlasting swan
Or maybe just a coffee and a roll
Thick with butter and gooseberry jam
Where you can tell me I'm a joke
And give my ribs another poke
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