YOU ARE GRINDING WHO?
Your arm is busy grinding
But there is no one minding
As they’re out there lining
Up waiting to be served

They love the sausage
You are preparing with sage
And other spices, all the rage
Passerby’s think it’s all absurd

What they have in mind is the grill
Full of burgers flavored with dill
On weekends they go through the drill
As though this was the final word

They wave to a neighbor who’s drooling
Ask him how he is doing
The neighbor asks what’s brewing
Must think you’re a coo-coo bird

Look he stands there excited
As though he were almost invited
Thinks, it’s an amazing plan contrived
Expects a fastball, but gets a curve

Another neighbor is unwinding
Thinks about the silver lining
The wonder of his neighbor’s dinning
On the sausage that he had been grinding

No one asks the source of the meat
Could it be the funeral home up the street?
Some say the director raises sheep
Is it the spices that make it distinct?

People come from near and far
Sometimes they wait in the bar
Listen for a reputation to be marred
The bartender lets out not a peep

This is all about getting you thinking
About transactions accompanied by winking
In a back room at a table with drinking
Money exchanged without any blinking

A.H.McKricken   aka Stanski
October 9, 2016 ^