Martin Parker: A Child At Heart
I'm still a child at heart.
But, sadly,
each other part
has aged badly.
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Russel Winick: Insecurity of Youth
Her magnificent, eyes seemed to shine,
Unexpectedly straight into mine.
But self-doubt is a tough foe to beat,
So I could not get out of my seat.
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Damian Balassone: The Man Who Stole Eternity
By stealing the secret of youth
I’m faced with a harrowing truth.
And what is the price of my crime?
I’m trapped in the prison of time.
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Tony Peyser: Why Feuds With Relatives Eventually Vanish
This may not wind up happening
Until your hair is on the gray side
But when one of you gets sick, all
Grudges tend to fall by the wayside.
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Pat D’Amico: Senior Moments
Oh dear, I’m forgetful and now I’m regretful
So I go the apology route.
My friends, I will note, are in the same boat
And don’t know what I’m talking about.
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Felicia Nimue Ackerman: Higher Authority
“What we need now [to be president of Harvard]
is somebody who is beyond reproach . . .”
- The Wall Street Journal
Beyond reproach?
What human coach
Could lead our squad?
Let's just choose God.
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D. A. Cooper: Epitaph For A Marchioness’s Dog
Here lies a dog who drowned submerged in fat
because of all the good things which it ate.
You hungry poor who pass her grand estate
be glad this curse will never lay you flat.
(Translated from the Milanese of the poet Carlo Porta 1775-1821)
Epitaffi per on can d’ona sciora marchesa
Chì gh’è on can l’è mort negaa in la grassa
a furia de paccià di bon boccon.
Poveritt che passee tegniv de bon
che de sto maa no vee mai pù sull’assa.
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Steven Kent: No Sale
As poet I was pauper so I made a change in style;
I went full-on commercial, then I worked that for a while.
But still I saw no profit and I finally gave up trying.
You can’t sell out in poetry – let’s face it, no one’s buying.
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Bruce McGuffin: Bus Stop
This morning at the bus stop I began to write a rhyme
About annoying buses, how they never come on time.
I listed all me grievances, the verse was getting good
Until that goddamn bus arrived exactly when it should.
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Terese Coe: Zeitgeist
Deities
are not averse
to teases
and a final curse.
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Mike R. Burch: Shell Game
I saw a turtle squirtle!
Before you ask, “How fertile?”
The squirt came from its mouth.
Why do your thoughts fly south?
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G. B. Pilferidge: A Rued Awakening
In dreams, the foie gras gander flies.
His fetters he has slipped.
The farmer wakes him up at dawn,
And then his wings are clipped.
