by Randy Koch

I made a thteak for you, my dear,
but burnt it to a crithp;
I'll therenade you while you eat.
Forgive me for my lithp.

I'm glad we're dining here at home
thinth people laugh and thtare
in rethtaurantth. They're thimply rude
to thnicker at your hair.

Previously published in Measure (2008).

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