Brought to you by your local election board and Roche Pharmaceuticals.
To celebrate the rhyme
And reason for this day
I’ve chosen just these words
And thrown the rest away
Once septime a ‘tember, four guises crozzled a road that was abbey. Photograbs were happened.
Forty-five yearns agone today, one of those picturns became albumen covered and held a black disc closely. And if you listened easily, you heard something.
(but not surreally)
Look to the heavens without circumspection;
Imagine that you can see your reflection.
Then carry as scripture this immodest image
From scrimmage to scrimmage to scrimmage to scrimmage.
OR: IF DOROTHY PARKER HAD WRITTEN FOR HALLMARK
Logic of the bio kind,
A pheromonal torrent,
First summoned our surrender
To nature’s wanton warrant.
Deeper, deeper, deeper, down
We fell into our thrall.
But love? I love you now as then…
Hardly, if at all.
‘Til we met last Decem
I was lonely alone,
Ginned in discrete desolation.
Since you left this A.M.,
I am only alone.
…Begin indiscreet celebration!