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Bahrow 7 Bonnie Buhrow Nothing to Eat There is nothing to eat. Just this apple. Otherwise there is nothing to eat. And some cake. A little meat. Otherwise, there is nothing to eat. I forgot these tomatoes but they aren't very red. And the bread. But there is nothing to eat. And, and fields of wheat laid out state to state, silos stuffed with grain like turkey throats, and dairies and slaughterhouses, milk and enough blood for every sunset, and restaurants with their bloated portions, and the plates stacked for washing like planes with scraps still clinging, and the garbage scows finally towing the waste out to meet the sea's unmoving depth. Otherwise, there is nothing to eat. ...


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