I'm not talking about those gray, plastic namesakes
as ubiquitous as cynics
that clutter every drive-thru between here and there.
I'm talking about the industrial-strength volumes.
The kind we all had when we were kids,
filling them with long afternoons of scribbles,
stuffing them into #10s for pen pals far and wide.
Weren't they everything you always wanted?
Ah, you say, but times change, and so do the rules.
Which reminds me, take an alternative route home.
The bridge is out, washed downstream.
Traffic's been rerouted, which, incidentally,
is how I landed here about ten years ago,
intending to stay two, maybe three, years.
Double everything, or, in this case, treble everything,
at least for the exit interview.
But, really, who would have thought?
Then again yesterday's headlines did say something
about plumbers making headway
in medical pyrotechnics with PVC pipe.
This could be the breakthrough we've been waiting for.
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| Blue Man Group |