Its a rainy day.
So no sand-blasting for me.
And, as can be seen
A teeth-grit free day
Is one for the calendar.



As she rolled around the corner
In her flash Mercedes-Benz
Striking a pose remeniscient
Of a late Baroquian master.
The sun glistened whistfully
And the crowd cheered dutifully
Off the sheen of her leather upholstery.
Random haberdashery
Sent the crowd scitter-scattering
Back to their poorly lit homes
Away from the shimmering glamor
And the arrogant manner
Of the button-tossing, car-driving
Corner hugging rich kid.