Mike's Meadow Muffin for April 19, 2004
Papers, papers every where,
Scattered two feet deep,
Faded, wrinkled, torn, and mutilated,
Hotel bill or gas reciept?
First I rake then into windrows,
Then I sort them into stacks,
I'd like to lynch the rottten skunk,
That invented income tax.
I emptied out my pockets,
after nearly every trip to town,
And stuff them papers in here and there,
'till tax time comes around.
When the kids start hunting Easter eggs,
It's time to empty my main stash,
sort through dust and hay and forgotten tools,
as I clean off my pick up dash.
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