Yesterday on the bus a man gave me his seat.
I said "Thank you."
He whispered "I'm Superman."
He leaped out the door at the next stop, and ran pell-mell down the street.
I think, in retrospect, he might have been crazy, but at the time I was PRETTY SURE he was Superman.
On a totally unrelated topic, I've written a poem about the woman I work with.
Old crazy dame, you shave your lip
you sit on your prosthetic hip
You type as fast as a snail
you don't know how to use email
You're pretty rude, when on the phone
you asked me how to spell "cellphone"
And though you smell of a bovine
Do not fret, I like you fine.
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