full of fresh rain water
now filled with the
dirty flesh of dead
bugs floating in the mud.
And pile in whatever you would like:
More rocks or grasshoppers or
Spit from your swollen throat.
Or gum from your tired teeth
Or loose hairs from your head.
I'll be ditchwading, wondering why
you're spitting in my face
or pouring rocks on my back
or spending time down here
with me in a ditch.
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