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Guilty, a poem

(for William Carlos Williams)

by Tom Goss

That doughnut was yours,

I ate mine.

I ate mine a second time,


No. No, not really.

Honestly, I did you a favour,

I know it wasn’t your preferred flavour.

Then something changes,

My stomach arranges,

And leaves me quite perturbed,

I realise my fate and look at the date

Then belch, I probably should have learned.


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