what follows is filled with foul language and is not for the faint of heart or easily offended. -M
'Twas the week before Spring Break
And all through my room
spread a giant fucking mess
and a real sense of doom
The explosion of books
and papers entrap
I can't hardly work
I'm so buried in crap!
The recycling is piling
and I can't find a pen
Just wait until Sunday
I'll be freaking out then
One paper in progress,
another unwritten
German to translate,
But no, I'm not quittin'!
For from out of the clutter
comes a thought that doth flatter!
Grad school's but a moment!
This shit doesn't matter!
So what do I care
if my room's getting smelly
Or that the stress eating
turns my body to jelly?
For on the horizon
Spring Break calls me home!
With nieces aplenty,
and the North End to roam!
With the promise of real beer--
no more three point two!
Merry night bike rides
and family dinners--ooo!
With visions of skies gray
my heart starts to swell
And then bursts out my yearning--
"TACOMA!" I yell!
As I make this last thrust
of effort for school
I call out in the night
for those places so cool--
"On Harmon, on Capers,
on sweet Southern Kitchen,
On Parkway, on Red Hot,
I'll soon stop my bitchin'!"
And despite my damn thesis
and my job that demands
I know I'll soon be in Tacoma
With a Fat Tire in hand
amen.
1 comment:
On the full moon we'll ride
With the guys from the shop.
It's a Booze Cruise at night
With drinks at each stop!
I'll ride my long Surly
And you the Fat Tire;
We'll sip suds and warm hands
By the bbq fire.
5-Mile Drive in the dark
Is quite know for it's thrills
But I wonder if one gear's
Enough for the hills?
I'll lower the seat
because you're so much shorter.
(The Hub opens the 20th,
try the Vanilla Porter.)
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