In upstate New York

In upstate New York
We don’t eat with forks,
We simply eat with our hands.

But it isn’t fair
That there’s no silverware
‘Cause we look like a barbarous clan.

My father cooks well,
At least better than hell.
And I hope we can last for a week.

But though we’re not fools,
We play with out food,
Or at least we have freedom of speech.

Luca S. (Middle School, 2011-2) (p#10355)

Bonus Poems for 2 Mar 2012...