The sausage is made
and lies in wait.
The clothes on the rack
are ready to wear.
The mustache grows
beneath the nose.
Tomorrow arrives
everyday on time.
A plug nickle
has no worth.
Apologies are made
and accepted.
A full house beats
three of a kind.
The bread has gone stale,
the convicted sentenced to jail.
Words work their way
to the landfill.
The day passes
silently away,
and the mare
crosses the finish line.
20 to 1 were the odds
for first place.
Heat is applied
to the muscle ache.
Let’s pick up
where we let off tomorrow.
You have been duly warned,
every day is not the same.
Try the hat on
for size.
Starry starry nights…
Your pants are on fire.
-30-
Chris Hanch 7-4-2022
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