Why Cant I Give My Baby Adult Gaviscon

Every morning he puts on his belt
spent a machete, expect a foreign country.
She dawn hours before it fires

knife in hand and on, routine, stripping potatoes. Attachments

,
pairs
His body twisted harvest rye, wheat or corn scythe
a whip.
The sickle, little sister,
helps her in the toilet of the garden.
He is a tiller of others, it provides their livelihoods. Attachments

,
pairs
With the four prongs of the
gallows the farmer throws and stack the corn reaped. Holders of four barbed

breakfast the mouths of little kids.
and vitamins in the pan removed. Attachments

,
pairs shoveled manure
it rains
to feed to the land of love.
As she shovels
includes animal waste.
are all his possessions. Attachments

,

pairs back, him slicing wood-logger-
lights the fire when it runs out the day. She
knife in hand yet, harvest bread for dinner,
and stirs the fire, and models
affection for children,
and serves care and delivery.
know that the end is not the goal. Attachments

,
pairs
The fire glows in the eyes of woman who cries out for justice.
The man nods. Tomorrow
waking
betroth his machete and knife,
with hoes, picks, hoes, sticks up ...
wielded peasant
of women and men alike.

and recover the land.