Project X

I searched with my good eye
and turned to the side,
“This train isn’t leaving –
your grandmother lied.”

It’s pure like an iceburg
(but just half as wide)
and cutting the onions
Penelope cried.

You drank from the carton
and toed through the tide,
reclining the seat back,
enjoying the ride.

A pinball was jagged,
or so Milly spied,
and sandpaper napkins
were what Jeffrey tried.

And ever so slightly,
as Sandy Jo pried,
the turnip was rolling
and catching a stride.

Deb’s always the bridesmaid
and never the bride
So there she lays pond’ring
her own suicide.

Her passion, she’s finding,
she now can confide,
is bathing in vats of
cool formaldahyde.

It’s not so much flying
as much as a glide –
All these green tomatoes
are half-baked, not fried.

Yet there, in a zip top,
the leaves had been dried
and friends of the party
were stuck on the slide

Seems Katie, not Booker,
will serve as the guide,
since sweet cousin Lizzy
has never applied.

The rules penned by Justin
were meant to abide
the by-laws by Preston
and, yet, were denied.

He said “Glass champagne flutes
were not made to hide!”
Yet, beneath crates of yam paste,
young Allison died.

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