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Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #1971331
In a sleepy little town.
The sleepy little town of her
maintains a humble face.
The letters on its welcome sign
are all in lower case.

It’s not that they are ego-less
or lacking any worth,
it's that they think one day the meek
will inherit the Earth.

And so with an inheritance
based on an “anti-boast,”
the town of her became renown
as her from coast to coast.

Now Lois Avenue was one
reporter with a flair.
She came to write about her folk
to publish in Laid Bare.

(Laid Bare was published near Des Moines,
  a paper with true grit.
  The publisher thought tales of her
  would surely be a hit.)

So Lois walked the streets of her
and talked to young and old.
She even knocked on her front doors--
Miss Avenue was bold.

As it was nearing four o’clock
a handy man came by.
He said he was Her Handyman;
“O Miss, give me a try!”

But Lois, although sure as brass,
gave caution to the man.
She also noted that his “Her”
was raised upon his van.

“I am the Handyman for sure,”
he cooed as their eyes locked.
He carried on in randy tone,
but Avenue just walked.

Reporter Lois returned home,
put out you can be sure.
It was the last her saw of her.
It was the last he saw of her.


40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
January 11, 2014




 

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