Throwing Scones

Two tables in a tea room
The lines are drawn
So quiet you can hear a doily drop
But unspoken words are the loudest of all
Throwing scones at glass houses
Too fixed to see
The greatest offense of all
is wasting good bakery
It’s not global warming
or American politics to fear
It’s a lady grinding her axe on the wedding china, oh dear.
The knickers are twisted
We’re a serious lot
Dash my wig!
Bitch the pot.

Published by: Ann Syrowski

The stats: 28 years old M.S. Atmospheric Science B.S. Geology I'm a Chicago-based normal person who goes to work every day but has a dream of becoming the best writer I can possibly be with the tools I've been given. I love this city, my family, friends, a strong drink, music, and the outdoors. On any given Saturday I could be at a museum taking in a new exhibit, or lying in my bed covered in breakfast crumbs while watching Father of the Bride for the 99th time. Both are equally likely.

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