The Fine and the Broaches

Who gives us this day
our plan to play
when what we want
is in bed to stay.

Gives us by grace
good food to eat
to keep up the pace
and not step in poop.

Who no punctuation
continues the cosmos
which seems a little
bigger than necessary.

Who wait for the holy pitch
slider curve screwball rich
two seam middle middle
every day swing and miss.

Then down to sleep who go
all around one man reaps
while his poor wife weeps
he a worker she a peasant.

I am fine how are you
she says with no ado
and neither broaches
apart from the other.