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.

The Great Ballooning

TOOTHy grin while scheming big.
SKULK around the hose, fill balloon after balloon. Then,
BRISK walk into house and up the stairs, the bin
SLOSHing all the way. Brother’s back in 20. The look on his face, when he comes up the driveway.