Porkoum Fest or Famine

Every August the Ribfest is due.
We make a mess of ourselves in public,
proud and conspicuous, in the long queue:
got to pick the right ribs and to those stick.

We make a mess of ourselves in public
gaudy signs, milli-thin, stretch sky to breach.
Got to pick the right ribs and to those stick:
we trudge past trophies, altars before each.

Gaudy signs milli-thin, stretch sky to breach,
bring the kids! Later, see Death Metal Band!
We trudge past trophies, altars before each.
See the kids spew in the Bouncy Tramp-land.

Bring the kids later. See Death Metal Band
proud and conspicuous. In the long queue
see the kids spew in the Bouncy Tramp-land
every August. The Ribfest is due.

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