This is a little poem a group of us made up while we were eating lunch in the breakroom.
"Keys"
Bad day ahead, I forgot my keys
I can't get in the door.
I knock. No response. It sticks in my craw.
They think I'm ***** ****
I stand there like a doofus, no coffee for me
It's my own fault. I forgot my key.
*** is the name of a person who's name I cannot reveal but rhymes with craw.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Prairie Fire
Tonight the Winona Bird Club had a talk with a prairie fire expert. This is the same guy who gave the timber rattlesnake talk a few weeks ba...
-
A yellow rail, one of THE MOST ELUSIVE birds around, sound like a manual typewriter. And if you're too young to know what a manual ty...
-
I received a gift from Offspring #1 - a collection of lectures on compact disk about Medieval Heroines in History and Legend. The speaker is... -
Jacqueline Windspear is the author of her memoir This Time Next Year We Will Be Laughing. She starts out with her parent's stories. H...
No comments:
Post a Comment