ode to the kiwi

Little dipper of cream, you
are a bunch of spit-

on fur and your bird shoes
your plinks–

I have scooped you up from your leaning
over, tiny hopper.

I know they try you, et tu
fruit, but don’t lie

to yourself, bird. Your big egg
is hard pressed

to find better cheeks than these, mine:
mine own bottom

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