Tempus Fugits
by WilPhew!
Woke up this morning with a start!
Overslept, I had.
Panicing I am, yup, yup.
To town, lickety split.
Dropped off the anchor,
to toil amid the bone fields.
While I a langorous breakfast took,
surveying news with coffee and cream.
Thence to the druggist with script in hand,
seeking this and that for ills and chills
and rushing pell-mell to the grocery,
to see what's doing there,
paying fat cat canadian power brokers
for the energy that brings this
stinking poem home to you.
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