That friend that starved you after school: a saltine nightmare
of chickens don't know when they're dead.
In the brothel
shred zucchini very thin
STORE IN A COOL, DRY PLACE.
But — if I stained my Apron —
narrowing by which a squirrel shucks a spruce
A bird dabbed me, a virgin soil, as I issued
Could I clean them in the creek?
Dear Customer,
No, there are no nuts in here
(it's a long story)
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Credits:
This was a collaborative cento composed by the Spring 2021 Creative Writing: Poetry workshop at Temple University, ENG 2003 SECTION 002; in-class gameplay facilitated by Alexa Smith.
A note to the developer:
The authors were very upset that they couldn't eat any snacks they found until the end, despite multiple investigations of the kitchen and pantry.
One author described this as a "SCAM."
The title is their commentary.