grandpop
the neighborhood
kid says sitting
on the porch next to me.
i look at him
and point out that he's
got chocolate
on his face.
which he precedes to
lick off
with a stretched out
tongue.
i'm not your grandpop
for one thing,
i tell him.
and you don't want
to hear
my stories. you won't
be able to sleep for
a week.
so run along
and take your bat and ball.
isn't that your dog
running down the street?
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