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Missing Pistachios (National Poetry Writing Month 2017 #12)   Leave a comment

Some mustacio’d pistachio thief
Stole into my living space
And much to my disbelief
My nuts have vanished without a trace

I wanted to find him, to give chase
But I didn’t know where to start
My mind a bullet, my thoughts race
In my chest is a broken heart

For I cannot bear to be apart
From my favorite shelled green seed
For I love to have the a-la-carte 
My desire goes past want to need

I guess I will have to concede
That my stash is gone forever more
Since I do not have any lead
I’ll suck it up, and go to the store.

– Shaman Romney 2017

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