Sunday, September 27, 2015

Words, Words, Twaddle, 41



(We all dislike/hate certain words and locutions; here are some of mine.)

Pusher

Lou had no wish to be a dope,
But hearing “push the envelope”

Come from the mouth of his new boss,
He grabbed a stick (he'd played lacrosse)

And whacked his boss across the head,
Who promptly fell—was quickly dead.

Lou burned remains in his back yard
(He didn't find it very hard),

Then thinking well (and filled with hope),
The ashes—in an envelope—

Lou pushed (a window, speeding train),
And felt that he was free again. 

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