Oh corn, I love you so
I even eat you in the snow
I like you roasted on the cobb
Even better than steak kabobs
When I go back to America what will I do?
I just don't know if I can live without you.
Everyday your on my mind
There truly is no other like your kind
All the corn vendors they know me by name
Everyday they know it's the same
Here comes that foreigner, she wants some corn
Which vendor should I buy from, each day I'm torn
Oh corn, I love you so...
I'll eat you everyday until I go.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
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10 comments:
Man, that is one dang good corn poem! I love corn too! If only I could buy it on the side of the road.
you didn't talk about Corn Poop. Corn makes you poop like corn poop-it hurts.
It doesn't hurt, Ross!!! I have learned though that corn does not really digest. I had 3 cobs today! Gotta get my fill! Maybe that's what I can do when i get back...move to CO and be a corn vendor on the slopes.
Girl, we have GOT to figure out a way to roast you up some corn here in the states! I'm worried for your health, otherwise! I've never seen someone go through corn detox but it can't be pretty. I think you have a promising career in poetry though.
maybe you forgot...but America has corn too!?
love the poem and you.
Kel,
Yes, I do want to see Stomp Yard. Maybe we can see it together? Oh wait...maybe not.
I love the corn poem. I think I would like to replace corn with sweet potato. There is nothing like it.
Umm, we need to figure out how we can get together. I am trying to go see the Ts in February. It would be great to see you then!?!
Well since I just got married to a millionaire today and we have our own private jet I think we might just be able to see that movie together. HA. I definitely hope and look forward to seeing you...GIRL, we got a lot to talk about. You gotta help me through this crazy transition. I think I'm going to be a social outcast. Talk to you soon.
In light of your love of corn, I have the solution to your transition uncertainties. Move to Dubai. We got corn!! Cup o' corn is the most popular. Deal of the century: move here and I will buy you corn every stinkin' day.
this is really moving...(single tear)
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