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 nagging doubt. A
SNARE is how he sees it, an attempt to snatch his tiny
TRACT of space on the planet, and replace him with a cat.

Susan Dennis

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.

The Killjoy

HONEY, I don’t mean to be a

CYNIC, and I don’t want to

DAUNT you, but you can’t just

CHIRP at the birds and expect them to obey you.

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.            

[This form of the Quordle poem is known as the Bumped Beginning and Hanging Stump style…]