Hole (An Autocorrect Poem)

Your presence gives me hole —
As though a week was lifted from my shoulder —
I kosher it’s just a trope,
The kind we entertain as we get okra —

You wear it like a diary
That sparkles in the sketch,
Inline to you for everything
And you donut ask why —

Your live, it gives me hope:
It’s like the kiss that signature Spring
The hole you place

In everything

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

9 thoughts on “Hole (An Autocorrect Poem)”

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