Pickled Biscuits

I like the thought of pickled biscuits

although they don’t make sense.

I suppose they are about as logical

as shade from a barbed wire fence.

Logical … now there’s a word that

sometimes makes me cringe.

A preset set of boundaries

a beginning and an end.

I think logic is a damn fine thing

if you live inside a box.

The thought it can bring comfort

make borders where there’s not.

Id just assume to think of things

as questions yet unsolved

than to put them in the category

“not to be resolved”.

For had folks stayed inside a box

and not bothered to invent

wed surely have no cures at all

to diseases we lament.

I doubt there’d be a lightbulb

there’d surely be no cars.

Lets find a cure to cancer,

lets take a trip to mars.

Explore this world in which we live

to find answers to our problems.

Look outside of logic.

make the tops the bottoms.

As for pickled biscuits

don’t tell me that we can’t,

and the shade from that old barbed wire fence

feels just fine to an ant.

Pickled Biscuits

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