Tempus Fugits
by Wil
Phew!
Woke up this morning with a start!
Overslept, I had.
Panicing I am, yup, yup.
To town, lickety split.
Dropped off the anchor
to toil amid the bone fields,
While I a langorous breakfast took,
surveying news with coffee and cream.
Thence to the druggist with script in hand,
seeking this and that for ills and chills
and rushing pell-mell to the grocery,
to see what's doing there,
paying fat cat canadian power brokers
for the energy that brings this
stinking poem home to you.
Originally published December 26, 2003
Copyright 2003, 2006 Wil Mosher
All Rights Reserved