Tyranny and Biscotti

by strangedayonplanetearth

On the M train I was reading the book Caliban and the Witch.  When the woman next to me broke into spoken word I was impressed, until I realized she was rhyming about how I will burn in hell.

Later I was walking my neighbor’s dog, which is about six inches long, when we were attacked by a dog 600 feet long (approximate measurements).

Determined this day will have one fine memory, I have turned to the oven, which is not known to judge or bite.  Four cups flour, three tablespoons anise seed, one-third cup rum.  No need to rhyme when the words are sweet.

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