Oven at 200 for, say, 25 minutes
Come out perfectly
Laden feed for a laden people
Dark of latent need on a blatant treeless heath
Potatoes, Queens printed boldly on the dusty sack
Their weight in some sense their nature.
Easter closing in, I have deprived myself nothing
The greatest temptation of all
When the Devil himself councils mercy in his case
Stitched gracelessly the starchy paper sack’s underside
Behinds designed with eventual prolapse in mind.
Alchemisland 
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