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Dave Bonta
We eat late, after
the heat in my
part of the bush,
with pleasure for
a home.
Afterwards, the air came cheap,
new wants sleeping at the breast.
Grandmothers in the bush for a good time,
the post-it note read.
A little bush
At the picnic place,
A little bush could talk to me.
I ran away
And hid myself,
And I found a bush that could talk to me,
A smooth little bush said a word to me.