Fell upon a sixteen-pound cookie baked by Eleanor Roosevelt,
then tumbled into the mine shaft connecting Florida to Wyoming.
Made a right turn at wherever the wild prairies blew ragweed,
but had to double back away from the prairie dogs.
Ran through a tunnel built for giants to feast within,
realized those giants were hungry for supper,
leapt out of my skin and bled to death.
WHARVED 