Wednesday, July 30, 2014

5629. NOTHING LETHAL

NOTHING LETHAL
It's nothing lethal, this fevered pace for you,
just a carry-over from days of old. When I held
the most-commanding lead in the cabin wars
we fought. I do remember the Laramie range. 
Those awful cabins on the rugged bluff  -  you
worked in some rich man's kitchen (only by
pretending to be a chef could you get a job),
and came home one day to tell me what
'Oysters Rockefeller' really were. Bull's
Balls. 'Oh well,' I said, 'I least they weren't
Bill's.' Out on the prairies, it went, those
rich NY guys wanted to name something
that reminded them of eating oysters back
home. Consider the privilege of wealth.

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