Cotton Candy

In this one big City, a spokesman stood at their boundary and declared, “We as a people are smarter than we know.”  And just over the line in an adjoining state, a figure came forward and proclaimed, “We are dumber than we know.”  And a chap passing overhead in a cool air balloon mused, “We may expect an attack shortly.”


Thanks to the freedom of the market place,
and the inescapable demands of the individual consumer,
it is now commercially sage to say that,
“No ONE size bullet is right for everyone.”


After the ole man’s death,
at the reading of his will,
one of his somewhat hazy kids
who said he’s “Led a life of symbolism,”
discovered he’s been left
a bunch of symbols.


This one other guy, (and he says not to call him a “sore head,” that he’s simply an “objective realist”), claims that most City fun seems to amount to:  getting drunk, falling down and hurting yourself, then getting better.


One ole timer mused,
“It is surprising how easily
one can come to terms with hormones,
a little further on.”


A metaphor stretched far enough
becomes like cotton candy…
then you can eat it and it becomes
a metaphor again…



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