Do I ever remind you of a racist joke
Wherein hardly known parties betray expectations
And wind up starting an independent brewery
Then sell out at first possible chance
Do you remembering see me
In stonewashed jean cutoffs
With yellowed ear cottons
Punctuating the moon
With finger quotes
I heard it touched you
Like a gag
This poem feels very 90s. Or very Milwaukee. Or at least 2002.
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