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High on every limb
of the pear tree canopy
we sat. Picking the fruit
to eat, ripe crisp and
juicy; we scrumped away
our youth.
We knew T-Rex from its tiny claws
Its hungry mouth, its toothy jaws.
But how can we assess T-****
When all our data’s from a stump
And weekly polls that flinch and jump?

The answer’s lying deep below
Perhaps with Edgar Allen Poe
Whose poetry is dark and slow.

A creature walking o’er the earth
In privilege stretching back to birth
That claims ascendance overall
And loves to brag and boast and brawl
And sometimes recoils, sometimes howls
(One sometimes wonders at its bowels—
When watching active ****** scowls.)

T-**** is marching to consume
What’s going on in the newsroom
And feeds on minor predators,
(Ignoring its own creditors).
It likes to crouch and dance and pose
While speaking in a broken prose
And often wrinkling up its nose
At anything that might oppose
Or even worse, that might expose,
Its streak of show-and-tell sideshows.

Alas when sizing up T-****
One hits a show-and-tell speed bump
That’s not about its topmost clump
Or its eternal ****** frump.
We know, somehow, we’re each a chump
In thinking that there was an ump
Who’d put things on the ump and ump
And so we lazed, and scrimped and scrumped
Instead of what we’d need to do—
To find what’s cleanly new and true,
And redirect our Waterloo
Away from its own cancerous lump
And toward a far less spurious zoo.
In other words, to dump T-****!
There's more than one way to skin a cat or pin the tail on a donkey which is good to know when you're playing musical chairs.
kids and games with happy faces somewhere in places I can't recall
but names I knew so well,
Barry and Robert, Rodney and Lawrence, Ilsa and Julie and Jackie, and now racking my brains for more names, they will come when I remember.

And apples, one a day to keep the doctor away
I scrumped a million to keep the school at bay.
This was our encyclopedia
the tree of knowledge that we climbed.
Those whirlygig thingies
that dropped from the trees
and spun about like helicopters
that danced in the breeze


well
I miss them.

and
the apples we scrumped
the hedges we jumped
the doors that we knocked
on and ran away from
just for a laugh

well
I miss them too

I'd make a list of all
these things I've missed
but
I don't think I have enough
time.

— The End —