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Founder of the Feast

by Bruce W Niedt


Seven p.m. –
as I try to paint
the fence in my garden,
a squadron of mosquitos
begins their assault.

My body is the buffet.
No matter that I reek
of insect repellent –
they just consider it
basting.

07/06/2002

Posted on 07/06/2002
Copyright © 2026 Bruce W Niedt

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