A Poem.

I have a

     sneaking suspicion

         that

               people are being nice to me

   today

only because

  this nursing top

       makes me look

       pregnant

  and also

that e. e. cummings’

first poem

was born out of

the need to stretch his text

to the length

of a graphic.

p.s. – Try not to hate on my mad Microsoft Paint skillz.

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