Deluded

My
CLONE walked up to me on the street. ‘Hi,’ she said, ‘I’m the
SASSY version of you.’ This surprised me: I’m about as sassy as a
SKUNK. I said, ‘Surely clones are perfect copies,’ and abruptly
SWEPT her illusions up with a simple dustpan and brush.    

Cat-ching Up

BUDGE the budgie? I think not. He’ll only start to
CHIRP fit to burst if you try to touch him. He has the
CYNIC bird’s view of life: every hand that comes near
DAUNTs him – he fears his last avian moment has arrived.
HONEYed words won’t change his view; calmly watching him
PREEN his feathers without interruption leaves a… Continue reading Cat-ching Up

Tractati

TRACT: in black and white, beliefs simplified to black and white.
PREEN, proclaim a perspicacity possessed by none.
BUDGE? Never. The self is the self’s proclamation, a self heedless of
SNARE posed by opinion bent into worship.

Crossword

The
CRYPTic crossword’s clues, enigmatic in form, too intricate for a
DUNCE like me who thinks he has to reinvent the
WHEEL at every turn, proved uncomplicated for my
NOBLE friend, who showed me where my cement brain went
wrong.            

Dunce

CRYPTic visions as he stands in corner,
DUNCE capped, and held of no account:
WHEEL will turn. One day. He will be known as
NOBLE. Except in this town, to these classmates.

Anodyne

My Pinot Noir is the very central PIVOT
of my evening slurp in my penthouse CONDO,
when I cease to chomp poetry and MUNCH
on the less tooth-wrenching pizza of PROSE.