The whole concept, the whole aim
shifted course, of course the coarse road
scraped and scrapped the sacred and scared,
typed oohs and ahs that rapture blasted
clean through and under roof;
raised the bar and shot cards all far and away
better than anything ever tied by binding;
and the aim left biding time away.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Poem-A-Day: Day 559
Cycle 15
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Drop a line, a quip, a snippet, your pants, or an anecdote...just don't drop the soap.