I felt the special gnawing days agoA sign of things to comeAnd things to goFlying from my mouthWhile farther southThe end of lunch as we know itLeaves me dry as a boneIn a bagful of powdered desiccantIn the Sonoran desertAt noon.
Oh no . . . So sorry to hear this! Your last four lines of "dry" humor are exquisite, though.
Thanks, but . . . well, it didn't turn out as expected, as you'll see from the new post that just went up . . .
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