Stand strong upon the bow
Chained to the deck
Ocean spray splashed over your fiery expression
Make a fist and defy the gods
Chomp down on the challenge
As the crew watches in awe
The sun bursts through fog
Blisters on hands explode
Casting your line and waiting
The yank from hell
Monster below answers your challenge
The battle will last for hours
You are Lars Larsen of Denmark
Famed hunter of guppies
The Guppy Granddaddy spits in your face
The conquest begins
Friday, March 13, 2020
Sunday, March 1, 2020
I Got Junk
Too much belly junk. Get away pizza!
Hundreds of VHS tapes in my garage not even the Salvation Army would take. My abstract paintings take up much space. I think they are provocative in color, shape and texture. I seem to be alone in this belief.
My art is not junk.
Yesterday I tossed six pairs of socks, a lamp, a TV stand, a bookcase and a chair into the dumpster.
Yes, I can de-clutter with the best of them.
But I spotted a perfectly good piece of luggage and almost clean shower curtains, which I brought back to my condo.
I am getting rid of this dad body once and for all. That chocolate pudding in the back of my refrigerator will remain right there. But all the old phone books get tossed. I am keeping my hair dryer in case they come up with a genuine hair regrowth system. I will never throw away hope.
Hundreds of VHS tapes in my garage not even the Salvation Army would take. My abstract paintings take up much space. I think they are provocative in color, shape and texture. I seem to be alone in this belief.
My art is not junk.
Yesterday I tossed six pairs of socks, a lamp, a TV stand, a bookcase and a chair into the dumpster.
Yes, I can de-clutter with the best of them.
But I spotted a perfectly good piece of luggage and almost clean shower curtains, which I brought back to my condo.
I am getting rid of this dad body once and for all. That chocolate pudding in the back of my refrigerator will remain right there. But all the old phone books get tossed. I am keeping my hair dryer in case they come up with a genuine hair regrowth system. I will never throw away hope.
Escape from Words
I wish I could escape my own harsh, nasty words. The snide remarks, the gossip, the dark humor. I curse my inability to use big words. My tiny one syllable words are embarrassing.
Words. In a strange bathroom stall you encounter a request to engage in a certain act with a sea horse. Too many words attacking my laptop. A sale on fishnet stockings? How did they know?
Announcements on NY subways that sound like they were recorded inside a bowl of soup. Toddlers begin with the questions on everything. Parents sob in frustration.
We need quotas, especially on politicians.
I will never yell fire in a crowded theater. Patrons would be too busy yakking away to hear anyway.
Words. In a strange bathroom stall you encounter a request to engage in a certain act with a sea horse. Too many words attacking my laptop. A sale on fishnet stockings? How did they know?
Announcements on NY subways that sound like they were recorded inside a bowl of soup. Toddlers begin with the questions on everything. Parents sob in frustration.
We need quotas, especially on politicians.
I will never yell fire in a crowded theater. Patrons would be too busy yakking away to hear anyway.
Ordinary Beauty
I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at three weeks worth of toenail clippings.I see beauty in their soft curl. A village of my former body parts before I cut them off. The mystery of the ephemeral nature of being human.
I pluck out my navel lint and feel its texture. I place it in a drawer with piles of other lint from days gone by.
Someone bashes their head against the roof of their car and staggers to the ground. Lovely. Someone loses control of their walker, which slams into another on his phone, sending it flying off through a sewer grate. A harsh dance of fortune.
Study the perfect symnetry of a bed bug, the ability to crawl into your tiniest orifices.
I want to jump a fence at the zoo and hug a ground sloth. A camel's drool and its pungent aroma are just as beautiful as a sunset.
I must stop and scratch myself. It's just bed bugs doing their job.
I pluck out my navel lint and feel its texture. I place it in a drawer with piles of other lint from days gone by.
Someone bashes their head against the roof of their car and staggers to the ground. Lovely. Someone loses control of their walker, which slams into another on his phone, sending it flying off through a sewer grate. A harsh dance of fortune.
Study the perfect symnetry of a bed bug, the ability to crawl into your tiniest orifices.
I want to jump a fence at the zoo and hug a ground sloth. A camel's drool and its pungent aroma are just as beautiful as a sunset.
I must stop and scratch myself. It's just bed bugs doing their job.
I Am Here
Where the hell are you? I'm waiting 45 minutes in a soaking rain here. No call, no text. I could have had someone else pick me up. People like me. They give me massages.
You never laugh at my jokes. My humorous essays have been published. I have a well respected blog. You are a dog walker. You ramble when you talk.
I am a quality person full of compassion. I would never let you stand in the rain. My battery is running low, so I will click off.
Wait. A text. What?? I specifically said Randolph Street, not Rudolf Street. Maybe I got the two mixed up. I'm human.
So you're on your way. I'm right here on the corner without an umbrella, getting soaked.
Did you pick up beer?
You never laugh at my jokes. My humorous essays have been published. I have a well respected blog. You are a dog walker. You ramble when you talk.
I am a quality person full of compassion. I would never let you stand in the rain. My battery is running low, so I will click off.
Wait. A text. What?? I specifically said Randolph Street, not Rudolf Street. Maybe I got the two mixed up. I'm human.
So you're on your way. I'm right here on the corner without an umbrella, getting soaked.
Did you pick up beer?
Big Spender
He has a huge mower, ridiculous for the size of the lawn. Benny has the largest goldfish bowl in the city. Two trucks in the driveway. Top of the line home entertainment system. The biggest fireplace I've ever seen.
His chainsaw could take down a redwood. He tips the mailman $75 on holidays. Strings 3000 lights outside. He's an investment big shot. The bling on his wife is blinding. She probably has 50 pairs of shoes.
His dog is a mean wolfhound that makes pedestrians cross the street.
I think he must have a tiny penis.
There's a rumor he might buy our library and turn it into a dance studio. All his moves are exaggerated on the dance floor.
I'll bet I have way more chest hair.
His chainsaw could take down a redwood. He tips the mailman $75 on holidays. Strings 3000 lights outside. He's an investment big shot. The bling on his wife is blinding. She probably has 50 pairs of shoes.
His dog is a mean wolfhound that makes pedestrians cross the street.
I think he must have a tiny penis.
There's a rumor he might buy our library and turn it into a dance studio. All his moves are exaggerated on the dance floor.
I'll bet I have way more chest hair.
Mud
I told her don't do it. The mud is too deep. Of course she ignored me, idiot husband. Here we were in our Civic spinning our wheels splashing mud. We were on our way to the mall and Old Navy, which had a 40% off sale. Francine worships that store.
She got out of the car. Mud up to her ankles. You're nuts, I said. The sale ends in two hours, she replied. Come back here, I yelled, as her figure drifted away in the fog. Call 911, she shouted. I am on a mission.
Our marriage is on the brink, I yelled. She plowed ahead. I called 911. They came and towed me out.
You saw the rest on the news. They found her a hundred meters from the parking lot. She was up to her shoulders in mud. Forest creatures had eaten much of her head. Someone on Twitter wrote she resembled an aspargus. I'll find the bastard and sue.
The car is still being fixed. Don't ask about the bill. I know I'll miss her. Her Old Navy outfits are going to Salvation Army.
She got out of the car. Mud up to her ankles. You're nuts, I said. The sale ends in two hours, she replied. Come back here, I yelled, as her figure drifted away in the fog. Call 911, she shouted. I am on a mission.
Our marriage is on the brink, I yelled. She plowed ahead. I called 911. They came and towed me out.
You saw the rest on the news. They found her a hundred meters from the parking lot. She was up to her shoulders in mud. Forest creatures had eaten much of her head. Someone on Twitter wrote she resembled an aspargus. I'll find the bastard and sue.
The car is still being fixed. Don't ask about the bill. I know I'll miss her. Her Old Navy outfits are going to Salvation Army.
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