The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: the car show.
We sold out of raspberries (eventually), broccoli, cabbage, Moroccan mint plants, gold plums, apples (close enough), and cherries at the market this morning. So that was good.
We also sold less than half of the apricots we brought with us. So that was less good.
Not really sure what happened there. Lots of people were at the market. My only guess is that most people were looking for stuff that was ready to eat right away and the fact that the apricots need to sit out for a day or two before they're ripe enough to eat did them no favors.
Ah well, we'll do our best to sell them locally.
Mine:
Come on down and see them,
All our cars are finally here!
Don't miss your chance because
We only use them twice a year...
2 comments:
I'm a little surprised that the apricots didn't sell well, but you say you are too, so I guess it's one of those odd mysteries. The gold plums sound lovely, as do the Moroccan mint plants.
Hmm, there's a delicious twist in your last line there, a suggestion of conspicuous consumption or unnecessary waste. Are you sure you're not just wishing you had a new car of your own as well? :)
The car show
This year, to save some money, the town elected
To hold the car show and the cat show in the same hall.
The scratches and the yowling; the cat hair on the cowling...
Next year the town officials will make a different call.
Greg - yes, odd mystery indeed.
I have two boys now, Greg. I'm wishing for a minivan :P
Hah, love the scene you've painted here. I mean, reading about it. I'd hate to actually be in the hall with all that going on...
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