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Poem: “Blame it on the radio”

Blame it on the radio

By Patrick T. Reardon

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That I drove my semi through motel wall.

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That bomb went off in grocery cart.

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That I sowed creeping sorrel on pure fairway.

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That Quaaludes were found in principal’s desk.

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That I lost hope and credit card.

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That highway centerline was crooked.

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That I taunted lip-pierced beggar.

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That naked window was peeped.

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That I slammed slow, old woman with bike.

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That random votes were cast.

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That I threw the scarecrow off roof.

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That word was passed to stormtrooper.

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That I wrote beautiful lies.

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That counterfeit money was thrown in collection basket.

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That I screamed “Fire!”

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That 300-year-old tree was chopped at midnight.

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That I sold myself into slavery.

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Patrick T. Reardon

10.10.21

This poem originally appeared in Meat for Tea in Volume 15, Issue 2, June, 2021

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