close becoming a ghost,
only to have a quick reprieve
at the very last moment,
saving me from doom and
destruction to live and
fight another day and
play a game of havoc
in the hay.
our last free-for-all was
a mouse named Mouse.
well, Mouse, being rather timid,
even with microphone,
very difficult to understand.
especially with the free-for-al
going on all around .
and after the free-for-all,
no one had a clue about
anything Mouse spoke of.
title to Mouse's speech:
be nice to mice.
well, folks, that about raps it up
for our last free-for-all gathering.
from this point:
stealth operation only.
that curious rolling gait,
requires scrutiny and
proof of life between
the now and the then,
where all good little
kiddies go to grow p
big and strong,
if not so overly bright.
then instinct kicks in;
mementoes et cetera.
knowing full well,
cannot weigh assumptions
on any old scale.
takes precision and
great bunch of good luck.
and a pretty girl to
rub our egos when
we guys fall miserably;
and we guys will fail,
just for that ego rub.
have never seen a February
displaying so much anger;
dishing out so much wind and snow.
and temps at zero degrees Fahrenheit.
whatever we did, February,
to make you so damned anger,
we're sorry, very sorry.
enough is enough, already.
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