THE FAMILY CAR

Great Moloch of the highways, we adore you.
You get us where we're going in a trice.
And yet, like many a pagan god before you, 
You claim each year a human sacrifice.



   WEATHER

Cooler, some would like it; others, warmer.
Some pray for rain, and some for sunny blue.
To please them both, the latter and the former,
How sad to know there's nothing we can do.
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