Saturday, November 6, 2004
It's sittin all by itself in some old forgotten corner a some old forgotten truck stop with just a napkin an a plate to keep it company. It makes like it's waitin for somebody but you know it's not. This pie has nowhere to go. This is a pie that the world has left behind.
An you're feelin pretty bad for the pie so maybe you go up to it a little, make some small talk like "How's it goin pie" or "What kinda fillin you got there" or "I'm made a flour an Crisco too!" but the pie doesn't say much. The pie's not used to talkin to strangers. It has lead a solitary life. A life of walkin the rails an ridin the desert wind an joustin with rogue samurai. Maybe you'll have a bite or two of the pie. Maybe you'll say a couple things after. You won't really remember em an the pie won't either. It'll just head on back to its cab an ride the cold lonely road again after a couple glances back in the rain. That's life. That's pie. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 4:34 PM
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