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Postmodern Village
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That might require surgery. Or IHOP.
by Francine DuBois

The last two bites of pancake are always the worst.
That's when the sugar hits you, settling in your stomach
Like a mound of stones from The Blair Witch Project.
Your throat closes like an "idyllic" Mexican-American border,
Letting nothing but water through. And it is this closure, this seal
That makes you nearly vomit. It's suffocation by pancakes,
Flapjacks, griddlecakes. Whatever it's called, it's still
A hint of death while the pillowy mounds of carbs fill
Your stomach and throat with little more than simple fullness.

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
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