We sat at the feast,
Watching races rather than the NFL, oh well.
Then the host showed us his fruit picks
From new in-law lands violated.
“We never imagined a refusal”
Upon our net perusal,
Of glorious glory Gloria purpleness,
Thrust upon us like a berry berry treat.
The juicy juice is moribund-
Compared to what VW is paying.
Likewise unqualified dunces such as I
The rider, the runner, the berry non-shunner.
I profess to love those I have abandoned
To the caress of steel and the imagined feel
Of berries in the dark, of juice drank in the park.
Of ‘Dairy Barn’ cones fulfilled alone.
Leave me the rest of the leavened best.
Beer and a treat tricked upon the sweet sheet street.
Alphea, those price changes are serious,
But so is the way you brush across me to verify us.
