Tuesday’s Light Verse
(It’s still morning in Illinois, so therefore I can still title this Tuesday Morning Light Verse… also, though, insignificant):
A fire rages across a sleepy street,
Ike wanders the Washington halls,
Glass in hand, Stoli methinks —
(Nicky has yet to take shoe to table)
Do I call 911? Nah —
Better to let the blaze go.
Fire and smoke,
I think while lighting a Pall
— what better defines 1955?
Destructive Anachronism 