Hail Poem #2

You need to close the sun roof;
the hail is nearly racquetballs.
Every time you get fired
those lunches start to add up.
The crust and crumbs were by the rat trap
that kids like to peek into (the smell too).
They stole only the refrigerator,
but my car was big enough to block the driveway.
The hail is turning to insurance claims, turning a profit.

Did you see the compost heap,
steaming next to the smoothie place?

The hail is knocking people out.
Your hat’s not going to help you.
I don’t want to deal with any concussions,
but you can look from the office entryway.

The bankruptcy court didn’t understand
how we meant to move things around smoothly.
The hail went viral and unfortunately turned funny.

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