April 26, 2014
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After trekking in the wilderness,
after scouring for what felt like hours,
after chopping down scores of mysterious plants that rose far above my head
I saw one.
It was grazing quietly by the river, separated from its herd.
A wild pizza; a real, live, wild pizza.
I’d never seen one outside the zoo before.
My stomach growled with anticipation.

I slung an arrow to my bow.
I took a deep breath.
This is it.
I slowly exhaled, my breath joining the faint breeze.


A miss.

It looks up, alarmed.
I wait patiently.
It returns to graze, cautious now of its surroundings,
aware that the herd cannot protect it.
I prepare another arrow.
I take a deep breath and exhale with the wind.


Kill shot.

I walk over to my kill.
Fresh from the box: the cheese was still melted, stroking the pepperoni.
Sensing the approach of the herd,
feeling the stampede as the ground shook,
I made off with my prize.

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