Happy Travel Day!
Everybody’s on the move
Except in this lane.
Month: November 2024
Tryptophancy-Schmancy
Since I had a nap
I can spend more energy
Crafting perfect wordzzzzz…
Thanks, Again
I think I say this every year:
I’m really glad that we’re all here
And mostly healthy, happy even;
Friends and family who believe in
Us, and in whose love we trust,
Are waterfalls in which the dust
That cakes us when we walk apart
Is rinsed away. Here in the heart
Of those who always have our backs
We’re insulated from attacks
Of insecurity and stress–
We feel them still, but fear them less
Surrounded by our kith and kin.
I’m thankful for you.
Let’s dig in!
El Baile Del Pavo
Every fourth Thursday
Of each year’s eleventh month
Turkeys dance with Death
Prepping The Word Salad
We’ve reached that time of year when I
Inevitably fail to try
To get a jump on Thursday’s verse
And end up scrawling something worse
Than poetasty on my phone
And then before my clan intone
With resonant solemnity
The last thing that ocurred to me
Before the hostess bade me rise;
I hide the panic in my eyes
By squinting hard to read the text,
And hope that something good comes next.
Ravelation
Some therapized couples seem wary or scared
To arrive at lights-out with a grievance unaired,
But something unshared’s not the same as suppressed,
And you might find it’s fine once you’ve both had some rest.
Electronic Nomads
Those plugs that convert AC to USB
Are apparently far more outgoing than me
Because rarely are they to be found where’re I’m;
They’re carousing, whilst I’m mangling syntax to rhyme.
I’d call to complain, but my phone’s low on juice
And this grammarless rant seems a far better use
Of my limited battery power. Also,
I enjoy when they tell me about where they go.
Uncles?
When an ant looks down
And spies people from on high,
What do they look like?
Likewise With The Amphibrach
Iambic pentameter isn’t employed
In this sentence the way it’s most often enjoyed
By Shakespearean audiences, but I’m using
It anyway, just to make iambs confusing.
Potemkin Pals
Sometimes you watch a person on T.V.
For years and years, until you start to think,
“I know that character, and probably
They’d like it if I asked them for a drink!”
But when you reach their publicist, it seems
As if they think you’re just another nut,
And they’re not swayed that you’ve been having dreams
In which you both are forced to share a hut
Because your plane was grounded by a squall
That swept the tiny island where you’d come
To exorcise your ex; you had a ball,
And bonded over minibar-sized rum…
And then it hits you: They’re just cool at work!
But in real life, that actor is a jerk.