Ralph

STOUT is what he’s become, in latter decades.
GROUT and tile is what he does in a day’s work,
RALPH. You need a re-tile? Call Ralph.
RIGOR and care, and speed. That’s Ralph with tile.

The jaundiced eye

Some politicians would sacrifice their VOTERs
on the ALTAR of expediency, politicians who are
SLEEK in style and
TRITE of tongue.       

Role Model

SCOUR the world for own advantage.
BLUSH never, say sorry never, admit other views never,
WHINE, claim persecution, slap twice for every slap.
ELIDE at every turn every glint of good a life might reflect.

Ear-drumming

I BLUSH that we, as humans, easily accept the
WHINE, the relentless head-drilling drone that
SCOURs our ears of Nature’s sounds as here we
wait on the frigid East Wind-facing hELIDEck.       

Photo: Ken Doerr

The Lull of Plush Living

QUASI ok life is mine, but there’s the rub.
PLUSH life, enough comforts, enough pleasures to feel plush. Yet:
CHUTE of life is one way and steep. So which to emphasize?
SOAPY baths, long and plush, or a cold shower that wakes me up to present, to eternity?

Sodden brain

The
sudden PLUSH of rushing shower water
CHUTEs down on me, and shoot! suddenly
I’m SOAPY. It’s too much. The plush and the chute
make me QUASI, or some might say, queasy.