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| By: Brad Liening | | |||||||
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| Some people think you are like an average player in the best basketball league on the planet, but these people are wrong. You are like the best sixth man in the league, hot off the bench with tight D, reinvigorating the flagging team. You are the secret currency of black markets. You are a bargaining chip in geopolitical power struggles, and in this you are like us, only more important. Occasionally you are in a bag of spinach and how awesome is that? Spinach overshadows you too often in supermarkets and in poems. Someday someone will find a masculine rhyme for you that is not forced, as if for you and you alone a new dictionary had to be invented. You never talk shit and you’ve never slept with my sister, both of which spinach did. Instead, you greet me with coffee and flowers, you let me cry at funerals. You will line my coffin and someday you will sprout from my mouth. And because you are a vegetable, and not at all a human being, I lie to you, I fuck you over and forget about you, I don’t care if you love me, and in the morning you tell me they will never cure cancer. | ![]() | |||||||
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