Back in the days when we had a lion TAMER,
when the circus had no strictures to APPLY,
the tamer told the lion his bum to SHUNT;
the lion responded with a shrug and a HUMPH.
In the wee hours
TUTOR of mine, pardon my
BRAWL, I mean scrawl, which I wrote in a cloud of excess.
EXALT my marks to an A+ I beg,
PRIOR to my deadline. I’m in your thrall, and thee I will bless.
The death of silence
CLANG! the kids are home. Peace no longer reigns as now
ERUPTs the homework pain, the refusal to read the tome.
QUIET has gone like a stolen garden gnome. Vainly I
SAUTĖ my interrupted meal, my late lunch, midst a teenage velodrome.
Invidious position
Back in the day, the hooker in the SCRUM’s
middle, was liddle – as I was, and BESET
by the blokey blokes around me; SMALL,
with bleeding nose, I hung between the props, SADLY.
Time out of Joint
GLOBE theater, the restless crowd was
BRACEd for camp and bawd, felt time stop, alter course. Hamlet in
FILET collar saw the ghost; on his sword Horatio and Marcellus
SWORE silence. Yet secrets force their telling–his time now runs toward dreaming in the undiscovered land.
Winter be not Proud
LEAFY spring full blooms soon, though winter’s farewells can yet TAUNT. Hellebores and phlox caution winter: “You reckon
BADLY, you overstay”. The sun brawls back, lengthening days, then
MAIZE will plant late spring and herald the sun kingdom, the bask of summer.
With their mouth they speak blessing while inwardly they curse.
BRACE yourself for the finest
FILET in town. Nowhere else on the
GLOBE can you find meat of such quality. I
SWORE on my father’s grave only yesterday, that I would always tell the truth!
Fix it in Post
TENET of modern living: we’ll clean this up in the
MOVIE version with soaring soundtrack. What seems
CHORE, repetitive, graceless, dull, will seem
SMART, suffused with beauty, when the notes tug at hearts.
DIY Jungle
PLUMP for “Rainforest at Home”! Spare no
FRILL! Tame a tapir, perch a silly grinned
SLOTH—slowly, mind you—in a leafy
FICUS crown. Wear a pith helmet to bed!
Regulars
RASPY voices from the corner table: Joe and his
BUDDY Sal come every morning, for a
DONUT and black coffee. Joe’s dog Max,
DROOLs, waiting for crumbs, mostly patient on the cool tile under the table.