Crooked and cricked,
the rest of my life through?
Peer, she skinny, my scope
still widening, feeling
nostalgic and prideful, increases
increasing more with the days, I
morph, more, crooked and cricked,
in my own way.
I think crooked and cricked,
sweetens with age, means more
meaning in time. I think it is the
sunset marble, and flashing red,
expired, parking meters at night.
Crooked and cricked, a life of service
What steaming service, serve me?
I am an Umbrella! I am an Umbrella!
After all, I've never been one to think, God's
spittin' on us in the rain.
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