One day in the parking lot I spied
Africa-shaped greased stain
The net day when my car had died
I saw an oily continent again
This time the Americas were greased out
On that lonely roadside shoulder
After that the stains did flout
As coincidences they grew bolder
Australia, Asia, Europe all appeared
Even lonely Antarctica was found
Upon pavement with auto grease smeared
If things keep up I know I’m bound
To find another stain afore long
But wonder I must at the shape
If to Earth all the stains belong
What alien landmass will next I gape?

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