Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Grocery Panic! (Alabama Edition)

Grab some milk and get that bleach!
Cans of soup, ten dollars each.
Come on people, do your part,
Got to load the shopping cart!
Beans and rice, and rice and beans,
Hot dog buns and tangerines,
Shop until your legs are sore!
Empty out the grocery store!
Ice cream, white bread, diet cola,
Thirteen pounds of bulk granola,
Note cards, light bulbs, batteries,
One of every kind of cheese,
Tapioca, ginger root,
All remaining Kiwi fruit!
Faster, now, before they rot!
Food for Fido! Food for Spot!
Pre-made chicken, batter-fried!
Shove your rivals to the side!
No time to be nice today!
Winter storm is on its way!
Quickly, now, we’re in a pinch—
They say we’ll get a quarter inch!

Sunday, December 31, 2017


Next year I will conquer more
And smite my enemies.
Next year I will just ignore 
Their puny mewling pleas.
Next year I will show persistence,
Decimate my foes.
Next year I will CRUSH resistance,
All who would oppose!
Next year I’ll command my fleet
And dominate the world.
All will tremble at my feet
When next year’s plan’s unfurled. 
But tonight I’ll bathe the cat
And give green beans a try. 
Mom said if I can’t do that
I’m grounded ’til July!

Sunday, December 17, 2017


Look there, on the horizon, how it rises from the land,
With mystic deep significance we’ll never understand.
A timepiece? Temple? Garden sculpture? Act of sweet revenge?
It might be all, it might be none.  Behold, the Great ToyHenge!
At least a dozen plush toys form its monumental base;
They’re topped by seven “Ultra Battle Frogs from Outer Space.”
Plus several hundred Legos and some upright building blocks,
A brand new “SeƱor Tater Man” who’s still inside his box,
Two dolls, a couple Jedis, twenty-seven tiny trucks,
Assembled killer robots and assorted rubber ducks,
Some balls and wands and ponies and this thing that lights and spins,
A puzzle cube that everybody hates and no one wins,
The tokens from a board game that was lost to ages past,
And heaps of plastic bric-a-brac to wow and flabbergast.
The untrained eye might easily mistake it for a pile,
But ToyHenge holds deep mysteries that bother and beguile.
And every day it lingers, and its makers’ legend grows.
Who they were, or what they all were doing, no one knows.
But legend tells that they’ll return to put it all away—
Within the next ten minutes, or there’s no dessert today!

Saturday, August 19, 2017

If You Speak

If you speak for hope and laughter,
Random acts of love,
If you speak for kindness
And the radiance thereof,
If you speak for beauty 
In each person that you see,
If you speak for all these things,
Why, then, you speak for me. 

If you speak for those without,
Or those who've lost their way,
If you speak for making something
Better every day,
If you speak for mercy
Even to the smallest flea,
If you speak for charity,
Why, then, you speak for me. 

And if you should have troubles
Or be battered by the storm,
Or if the hearth of fellowship
Should fail to keep you warm,
If the darkness closes in
With everything you do,
And if your voice is small and weak,
Then, friend, I'll speak for you. 

Friday, August 4, 2017

Ode to an Ode

O Ode, thou perfectest of all expression,
Thy words well-chosen and thy structure sound
Enable the most intimate confession

Of thoughts which otherwise would soon be drowned
Beneath the sea of fortune, still and black
Against whose shores my heart would run aground.

Thou ruminateth like the chewing yak
On any object which hast thou inspired—
An objet d’art or — ah — a fresh Big Mac.

And O, the truth and beauty thou hast sired
Would render wisdom to the lunatic. 
O Ode! O Form! O Poem most admired!

Yet still, for just a naughty little kick,
Thou matchest not the dirty limerick.

Thursday, August 3, 2017

The Pains of Love: A Sonnet

Oh love, how I do suffer to be thine,
With sharp afflictions tormenting my form.
Without thy love, the shivers rush my spine
Like biting frozen cake I thought was warm.
The longing of my heart, it pulls at me
Much like my sock doth tug my hanging nail.
Thou knowest not how I have burned for thee,
Like chili pepper scorching my entrail.
The pain I feel, how reminiscent of
My neck’s mild pang from sleeping on it funny.
If thou shalt not consent to share my love,
I’ll melt with sorrow like a nose that’s runny.
I hope my meaning thou canst soon unriddle—
I dieth for thy love, but just a little.

Monday, July 31, 2017

Your Weather Forecast

It’s looking like a tricky night for weather in the city.
There’s lots of trouble on the way, and travel won’t be pretty.
The chance we'll get some thunderstorms is sixty-five percent,
Plus winds that make you say some words you’d given up for Lent.
The chance of snow’s at four percent, and three percent it’s sleet,
And two percent it’s little tiny flecks of luncheon meat.
It’s likely you’ll see dime-sized hail, no matter where you are—
Plus one just like a bowling ball that lands upon your car.
Expect to hit the tail end of a Category Four,
So stock up on your bleach and milk and white bread at the store.
We should get bolts of laser rain descending from the sky,
Plus streaks of fire that reek of angry judgment from on high.
We’ve made this nightly forecast with the best tools that we’ve got.
The chance is one percent it’s true, and ninety-nine it’s not.