It’s crumbling, the Infrastructure.
I was driving on the I57 and hit potholes. The crumbling highway, but Holy Cow those potholes shook up the old Firebird’s chassis. The edges of those holes need to be a little more crumbly than they are.
I’m bumbling and grumbling and fumbling and it’s humbling and i’m jumbling things in my head and tumbling and mumbling and my innards are rumbling and i’m stumbling, but by God I’m not crumbling, not yet.
Ever see a bridge crumble? Just sort of melts into the river.
Ever see a structure crumble, whether infra or outfra? The outlines go soft. The thing draws scorn. Fresh scorn. You can’t fix it. Got to tear it down.
I knew a Mongolian kid named Jumble. Never checked the spelling. In English I mean.
Finally, the good news: A crumble is a dish of British origin that can be made in a sweet or savoury version, although the sweet version is much more common. A sweet variety usually contains stewed fruit topped with a crumbly mixture of fat, flour, and sugar. (Wikipedia)
But a crumble doesn’t crumble when it gets old. It petrifies.
Filed under: Culture, News and Politics | Tagged: food, Humor, Infrastructure, Politics | Leave a comment »