PB & J: a poem

I smell peanut butter and jelly. 
Now I long for my childhood 
White bread
The right spreads
I smell peanut butter and jelly 
I don’t know where it’s coming from 
Pillage the fridge in the village 
Mom, can you fix me one?
Because I smell peanut butter and jelly 

By Michael A. Moss 

Escape Indie, 2017

All Rights Reserved 

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