Eating Rattlesnake at Tortilla Flat
''It will taste just like chicken, ' the waitress said.
I poked at it a bit,
I did not finger-lick it,
I did not think of Cather or Steinbeck,
I thought of The Colonel instead,
Coughing out a laugh.
They gave me the rattle I no longer needed.
My father asked what
The matter was.
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
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