Oranges.It doesn't rhymeWith any wordOr phraseOr contractionIn the entire english dictionary.But I can still write it down,Stick it in a poemOr a songOr a billboard off 75If I wanted to,I could spend ten versesProfessing my love of citrus fruitsOr I could chooseTo tell the truth-That I hate themFor no apparent reason. And that,Precisely that,Is why I love America.Because no matterWhat I say or think or doI can put the word orangeIn a poem.And as much as I can be pushedAnd shovedAnd told to pay taxesAnd vote for people I don't wantAnd live in a country that can't help but argueNo one can do jack shitAbout the word orangeIn my poem.
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