Mr. Rhino

July 25, 2010
He runs toward me in a wild dash,
His name is Mr. Rhino.
In his green striped tie and mismatched suit,
They call him Mr. Rhino.
His coffee flies out of his hand in a long, downward spiral.
His alarm clock rings,
Ding! Ding!
They call him Mr. Rhino.
I’ve never seen him run so fast,
This fat old rhinoceros.
He face is twisted. Twisted mad!
He clenches his large fist.
He breaks the door with one powerful kick,
His laptop has fallen down beside him.
Don’t get him started.
Do not get him started.
You don’t want to ignite him!
His library book and jellied toast fall right down to his feet.
How could this be?
How could this be?!
He usually is so neat!
He runs and runs toward car in a long, powerful stride.
His mind is racing,
His briefcase is open,
He can’t waste any time.
His wife is yelling,
“Listen, listen. Listen to me!”
He should’ve listened to her plea.
He hurries to his car…to leave.
But to his dismay,
He realizes that he forgot his keys,
This is a Monday.

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