Mama Said So

by The Juicer

I don’t know where I am going.
And it is not that hard to admit,
In these days of
Glazed and spent soul-searching,
Widespread.

Tiger-Mom is back home,
Too many miles away; it’s still the same place.
Even if she was here,
She would not raise a stick,
At these middle-age impoverished.

Golden wheat and chaff,
Peels and pips;
All fiber, no juice.
Those wondrous surfaces,
Distract and digress.

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