More in Dregs & Other Unreadables
all's well that ends in flames
the freshly grated road twisted
all 12 miles around the lake
past hundreds of cottages
filled with happiness
and wood stoves
but there were no fires
on the day we took our walk
and I politely dumped you
into the dark black mud
of the spring fed stream
a couple of hundred yards from the lake.
No one ever believes me
when I explain the mating rituals of New England
and the proper way to get a girl to marry you.
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