Just the other day
a friend of mine
(These I can count
on my left hand
it’s sad but true
I’m such a loner.)
But enough of that.
This friend of mine
he gave to me
a bag of basil.
This he grew himself
in big, round flowerpots
bordering his back lawn.
That got me thinking.
I grow these poems
(Really? Can you even
call them by that?)
In the unfertilized soil
which is evenly spread
throughout the crevices of
my very bored mind.
I give them away
if anyone can care
on this very site.
Alas, unlike that basil
they are hardly piquant
nor smell as good.
As for that basil
it wound up in
a bowl of tomatoes.
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Poor basil!
No actually it was pretty good, nice and fresh. Not that anybody cares, but I never used to care for tomatoes and now I just love em. Thanks for reading.