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Poetry: Driving humor

by John G. Fedoriska Jr.

School is out. What a blast!
But George's car is out of gas.
What madness is this?
Ye Gads, why such bliss?

Frigid, fragile, frosty flakes,
falling in a frenzy;
forming foam about my face.
Frigid, fragile, frosty flakes!

George cries out "Mother will kill!"
Then poor old George, he takes a spill.
The dampness soaks into his clothes.
I pity George, his shoes have holes.

Frigid, fragile, frosty flakes,
falling in a frenzy;
forming foam about my face.
Frigid, fragile, frosty flakes!

Cold sharp needles, from the sky,
hurl at us as we run by,
Two wet sponges, George and me.
We've got the gas, George lost the key.

Frigid, fragile, frosty flakes,
falling in a frenzy;
forming foam about my face.
Frigid, fragile, frosty flakes!

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