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/ The notes blatted skyward as they rose  \
| over the Canada geese, feathered rumps  |
| mooning the day, webbed appendages      |
| frantically pedaling unseen bicycles in |
| their search for sustenance, driven by  |
| cruel Nature's maxim, 'Ya wanna eat, ya |
| gotta work,' and at last I knew         |
| Pittsburgh.                             |
|                                         |
| -- Winning sentence, 1987 Bulwer-Lytton |
\ bad fiction contest.                    /
 -----------------------------------------
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