Composed this while finishing brunch as a satiric afterthought. This seems to happen at multiple Farmer Boys (I've had brunch on Sunday at a few different ones after church) weekly. Enjoy:
Testimony (1st draft)
I saw a herd at the Farmer Boys
Eating lunch after church;
They moved the tables, four in all,
And shoved and scraped the chairs.
Frowningly, their matron directed
The movement and the seating.
When all was set--the feeding commenced--
The chirps, the burps, and grunts, and groans:
The sounds of satisfaction.
To conclude:
The tables were out.
The chairs displaced.
The piles desperately clung--
Glued together by the strength and will
Of ketchup and gravy alone:
A sticky reminder Christ's brood was here:
A dingleberry for remembrance.
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