CABBAGES

If you find me, let me know. We can eat cabbages together and reminisce. Maybe about cabbages. Do I even know what cabbages look like? If it started raining cats and cabbages, maybe we should have invested in sturdier umbrellas. These ones are inverted in the wind and don’t even carry us off into wherever Mary Poppins comes from. A curse on all broken umbrellas and the broken things they can’t protect quite adequately from the heavy rains. Not really? Okay, well at least they taste like cabbages. If they do. I don’t know. Never tasted them. But I say, let it rain cabbages. After all, they say we need the rain. And whoever they are that say this, they probably haven’t ever said that we don’t also need cabbages. I mean, we might? We might need cabbages. For it is often the case that I look up at the sky again, waving my hands in some futile fashion or modern art piece, and say, let it rain cabbages.

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