Subway Stop Stanza

This poem is for people who are always in a hurry
Who can’t afford the luxury of rhythm or of rhyme
The folks who skim so quickly that the stanza breaks are blurry
It’s true: This one’s for you! Now aren’t you glad you took the time?

Keep Your Hands In The Car At All Times

I’d ride a roller-coaster
For the thrilling drops and dizzy views
And stomach-churning twists and turns…
Or I could just unmute the news.

And They’re Out!

I’ve just found a sport
In which I’m competitive:
“Nappers, take your ZZZ’s…”

It’s A Dog Whistle, But Still…

It’s impossible
Rudy’s not the hero here.
Giuliani blows!

Infernal Gumnation

Gummy bears have gummy teeth
With beary gummy gums beneath
All wrapped up in a gummy shell
Trapped inside their gummy Hell

Preset Button

I rise before the dawn to run
Or swim before the day’s begun
So all the crap that follows after
Leads to fewer gripes than laughter

I Have A Tell (Part 2)

My optimistic verses tend
To come before the evening’s end
(By fifteen hours, more or less).
If truth be told, I must confess
That optimism’s my default:
I’m bubbly as a slug in salt
When I wake up (just ask my wife!)
Before my daily slice of life
Lands jam-side-down and stains my slacks;
My late-day writing often lacks
That element of joie de vivre
Through which my early works deceive
The reader into thinking I’m
A jolly salt-slug all the time.
Such joyous voices fill my head
Those mornings I’m a slug-a-bed!
It’s rare, though, that my day permits
Delight. By night, when writing fits,
Sarcastic cynicism’s seething;
Bitterness, like labored breathing,
Wheezes back of every line,
And that’s the way you’ll know they’re mine.