My sense of humor was on crack
the day I glued the nickel to the dining room
table. In my baby faced innocence
I thought I could get away with it.
And I almost did, until my sister
walked in, inspecting my work like
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a sharp eyed realtor.
"That was dumb," she said
and her snap judgement hit me
and knocked me sidewise.
Then she walked out,
to watch tv or something
leaving me to scrape the glue
and the nickel off the table,
hiding the evidence of my rainy day
boredom, a silly practical joke.
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