In a Moroccan restaurant in Sierra Vista, Arizona I had pastilla.
You know that sugar crusted pie filled with apricots and spiced pigeon.
Yet the pigeon tasted distinctly like chicken.
So for heaven’s or make that goodness sake,
I pray they didn’t substitute rattlesnake.
Stumped was the clueless tourist
Who while in Arizona’s Petrified Forest
Sitting on an agatized fossilized stump
Forest-the-life-of-him could not digest
Over countless milleniump
What had caused the trees turned to minerals to deforest.
Mona from Arizona was quite the nasal moana and bemoana because she hates that arid zona.
With summer temps averaging over a hundred degrees,
Nothing you could do or say
Would ever tempt me to go to Tempe.
Hotter than hell
and an ungodly sprawl,
They almost got it right in Phoenix.
It should have burnt to the ground
Yet never have risen.
I never believed in any vortex
Until I was pulled into Sedona, Arizona
and without any apparent reason stumbled,
Injuring my cerebral cortex.
So, now I am not in any condition
To know what to believe.
Verse for Thought or Not 