Okay here goes!

The C.I.A.

Used chewing gum: Deaf-bugs of
The Children In Action!
Just when you least expect it
a glob of pastel pink Carefree
attaches stealthy, to one corduroyed knee
as you bend proposing earnestly.
Just along for the ride; a dead battery.

Or

Why when the weather warms
do my feet find used gum in swarms?
If there's a patch left un-footprinted
to be sure my pump with squarely crimp it!

Dishes!

Or: a Superhero Faces Reality

I can change the world you know
I’ve got the cape to prove its so
I’ll defeat the sharp clawed awful beast
That steals small children on which to feast,
I’ll stomp the three-headed hypocrisy
That monster that keeps men from being free…
I’ll break the chains of Despair and Woe
I’ll free the Slaves wherever I go
These are a few of my fondest wishes…
What mom? What did you say?
Do the dishes!?




[This message has been edited by Melalope (edited March 11, 2002).]

<FONT >

The doctor said it wouldn't hurt,
or maybe just a little.
I should have known. When they insert
a finger up one's middle,
one needn't be all that alert
to feel the doctor fiddle,
no matter how he tries to skirt
what's tender and what's brittle.
How they can claim it doesn't hurt
remains the only riddle.

</pre></FONT s>

Ode to toenails

Which bodyparts were smeared
- on the cross -
with Christ's last blood

growing even after
death has conquered
the body they grow on?

The ship which jotnir sail
in viking raid
against Thor and Asagard

what did they build it from?
What must the living
cut from a dead man's body?

When I pretzel up to meditate,
looking for a hint
of divine revelation, all I find
is belly button lint.

When I sit and contemplate
my navel, as is faddish,
the only thing I find is salt
in which I dip my radish.

Though I may not find inner peace
as lotus-like I scrunch,
my sense of inner hunger dies
as I consume my lunch.

Defensive Aging

Little old lady,
shy and sweet --
May I assist you
across the street?

Sir, if you place
a hand on me --
You'll be dangling
from a tree.

My First Romantic Poem

A doctor with a rubber glove
bent him over, gave a shove;
the patient screamed, 'Oh, gods above,
Cupid's found me - I'm in love!'

I'm still having a crappy day. *double groan*


Oops - sorry Roger, didn't see you'd already claimed this topic.


[This message has been edited by Robert Swagman (edited April 05, 2002).]

Of course, you can write about yeoman with filthy thumbs--but who has, besides me?

To a Poor Old Yeoman

sucking a thumb in
the field a filthy one
of them in his mouth

It tastes foul to him
It tastes foul
to him. It tastes
foul to him

You can see it by
the way he gives himself
to the filthy nail
still dark with dirt

Uncomforted
a cursing of raw thumbs
seeming to fill the field
It tastes foul to him



------------------
Ralph

The books we put out for free
All disappear.
The sun shines on the empty sill;
I hope they're in a better place,
And not recycled.