Rain In The Bowl Poem by Stephen F. Cooper II

A bowl on the table near the rum
As if to crush it with the molars in my gum
After school
At the table I drew my stool
And sat down
To begin my day in gown
Streaming in my mouth was saliva made by glands
As I pulled the lid with stretched hands
Alas, it was raining in the bowl
But that could not stop me from reaching my goal
As I crushed every food material
Till I saw 'Made In Liberia'
And the heavy rain was no more.