To a Fat Lady Seen From the Train
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
- Missing so much and so much?
- O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
- Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
- When the grass is soft as the breast of doves
- And shivering sweet to the touch?
- O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
- Missing so much and so much?
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