Fruit (an acrostic poem)

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Focus on the holy tomato

Rejoice in its versatility

Understand where it sits among the pantheon

It makes up more the 50% of the condiment

Therefore salsa is a type of blessed savory marmalade

Taste (an acrostic poem)

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Those stripes will be yummy with a dash of polka dots

Adding the mismatched pink and green fluorescent socks to further spice it up

So put together a feast for your soul and embrace who you are

There might be people who want to throw up a bit when they see you walk down the street but…

Everyone has a different fashion palate when it comes to style.

Chance (an acrostic poem)

Converting luck into action

He tossed the spinning dice from his hand

And as they flew through the air, probabilities spun with them

Not collapsing the distribution curve until done with their dance

Cascading all possibilities into a single outcome

Everything random transforms into fate

Factory (an acrostic poem)

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Focused on manufacturing

And maximizing profits

Creating parts and pieces for consumption

Then spitting them out into the hopefully accepting world

Ordering the chaos of creation into ridged steps

Reaching for peek throughput and yields

Yet that damn Murphy was always on the visitor’s list

Cereal (an acrostic poem)

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Couldn’t start her morning without the stuff

Everyday was a bowl or two of sugary goodness

Really it was also a bowl for lunch, and maybe one for a late night snack

Eventually she realized she was an addict

And tried to quit cold turkey, but that didn’t end well

Locked up after freebasing all the Captain Crunch at Walmart

Tribe (an acrostic poem)

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They were always looking for a place to settle down in

Running was so tiring, and the souls of their shoes were getting holey

It would start with that awkward silence that announced the countdown to launch

But this time there was no moment of quiet in the cacophony of laughter

Everyone deserves to find where their weird is the normal, and that’s how they knew they found their people, their…

Mechanic (an acrostic poem)

Image: By Sicnag – 1964 Oldsmobile 442 2 door Hardtop, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=45448417

Machine magician, doctor of octane studies, wrench whisperer

Every one of those titles match well with her engine grease pedicure

Changing the blown out head gasket of an Oldsmobile 442

Her wizardry breathed life back into that smoke belching dragon

And by the end it bent to her will, purring with all eight cylinders

Now ready to consume as much blacktop and gasoline as could be reached by the tip of the pedal

It was the masterful application of her sorcery and to celebrate its completion she pushed her mount to the max

Causing twin black streaks as evidence of her passing as she rode the beast into the distance