scraped what was willed
They kept their stools warm all afternoon
As
The drinks kept rolling like
Thunder in a man's missing bowling ball ..
As the kids of the
World typed a new message
And slid their fingers over
The crochet kit that was
To stitch together the missing pieces of
A lost civilization's new government policy ..
&
A many tires gained willful heat as
The road growled back in its own
Blend of folly while
The traveling show packed and left town ..
Yes,
It was a day of events all over that
Could fill the annals of a slow year's final volume
Of almanac livin' ..
So,
As I sit here before the typer to make
Sense of several slices in an enormous pie
Smashing its will in our face ..
I gain just a morsel of whipped topping
On my lower chin ..
Rub my finger over the creamed goodness
& know that
I have
Barely scraped the sweetness ..
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