Friday, February 07, 2003

Friday Poem: Ode to Tommy Franks

Forgotten memories of epic snow forts
And little slush balls
That I used to hurl at taxi cabs
Slowly driving throughout
My blanketed neighborhood
After the furious snowstorms
Left too much snow.
Dropping off harried customers
Who lost their snow shoes
They seem to be nice people...
The taxi drivers,
Even the foul smelling ones.
Now I think most of them
Raise money for Al Qaeda
That's why I don't tip very well.

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