Qs minus the As

Do we ever really escape being down to earth?

Why isn’t it unlawful to poach eggs?

I’m Irish so shouldn’t I have become a Catho-holic?

For anyone serving in any religious hierarchy, what’s the moral choice:  perpetuation, subjugation, apostasy or emancipation?

Does hate have a known gestation period?

What’s the formula for becoming a pyromaniac of the heart?

One of my early crushes instructed me to make my arse sparse — did literal me do the right thing by joining Jenny Craig?

I was born minus wisdom teeth — am I a protected class?

Where exactly is it that poetic justice is the law of the land?

Are bad relatives ingrown ingrates?

The Sound of One Hand Writing

I’m still on my John Prine-ish (if that isn’t heresy) binge. Let’s call this a music-less song rather than a poem.


I got a woodpecker in my pants

some mistake it for a fer-de-lance

it makes my legs sway to and fro

although both my feet flatly say no

 

I’m stuck with a pair of alligator arms

don’t worry, they’ll do ya no harm

And the eyes I own aren’t the same size

On the beauty way, I’ll win no prize

 

(Chorus) We have our bodies til death do us part

I think mine was assembled a la carte

 

My disks are each fully fragmented

still in place, yes, but slightly dented

biting into moon pies makes me giggle

when I get up, my thighs they wiggle

 

I need to minimize my gluteus max

ain’t all diets a personal sin-tax?

lost count adding up my multiple chins

Let’s call it a maximizing of all my skin

 

We have our bodies til death do us part

I think mine was assembled a la carte

 

My nose knows what’s fingerlickin’ good

food tasting should be my livelihood

In my boyhood I was just misunderstood

Not too many spark plugs under my hood

 

Some call me a friggin’ human hammerhead

poundin’ roofing nails are my butter and bread

my head is now just one huge cranial cavity

my biceps theys inverted but I think its gravity

 

We have our bodies til death do us part

I think mine was assembled a la carte

 

You know my toes, they refuse to twinkle

when it come to snorin’ I’m Rip Van Winkle

my pecs been the victim of some kidnapping

I’m a piss poor candidate for chromosome mapping

 

The few muscles in me are the slow twitch kind

I’m disinclined to ever seek peace of mind

nobodys ever asked me to pee in a cup

cause my human algorithm has never added up

 

We have our bodies til death do us part

I think mine was assembled a la carte

Damming Up Life’s Stream of Consciousness

Maybe this evokes an intermittent John Prine-ish note? A touch of John Callaghan? Possibly Rodney Dangerfield? Ha! Yeah, right. Still rising to becoming a grateful human being.

So please read the following with an imaginary blues riff inserted between each. Or maybe a rim shot.

It might cause traffic to come to a stop and sightseers to gawk

but do wheelchair users ever get challenged to walk the walk?

 

I feel like a solitary party of one and for that I’m seeking a panacea

But luckless me has never even witnessed the face of Jesus on a tortilla

 

So if it’s Colonel Mustard in the cloister with an ever-burgeoning cross

doesn’t that make all religious dogma just a clueless albatross?

 

Imagine the handful Jesus was throughout his early teens?

so why did it take him so long to finally spill the beans?

 

I bought what was described as Geronimo’s old Cadillac

it actually was a Pontiac from the cheese king Monterey Jack

 

I’m not sure if I’m Saturday night or Sunday morning

it depends on which Mary Magdalene role I’m performing

 

How does one become not just proficient but good at suicide?

have a body to subdivide like good old Jekyll and Hyde

 

Got a ticket the other day from a meter maid named Rita

the judge, he lectured me to read backwards the Bhagavad Vita

 

My favorite band of all time is Lot’s Wife and the Saltines

with hits like “Nazarene Obscene” and “Peron the Argentine”

 

Second is Sisyphus and the Unfulfilled Sherpas

known for their ascending and descending aortas

 

Were the Apostles truly the first and only fight club?

Is it true their ringmaster was none other than Beezlebubb?

 

I’m training guide dogs for the atrociously empirically impaired

those savantless idiots who believe Norwegians all drive Fjords

 

The key to staying off the Grim Reaper’s shopping list?

For one, never kiss an unlicensed or practicing proctologist

Losing Footing

Heading downward isn’t usually associated with anything good

consider the phrase “fall in love”

is this a never-ending nosedive?

what’s are the odds of a soft landing?

can humans tumble upwards?

+++++

imaginary phone call #1

Emergency operator: “911, what is the nature of your call?”

Me: “This is more of a precautionary dialup — I have fallen in love but don’t need stitches and I can’t find anything broken.”

Emergency operator: “Did you lose consciousness sir?”

Me: “What?”

Emergency operator: “Have you experienced any difficulty breathing or voluminous sweating?”

Me: “I just want to be on record for the future. Just in case.”

Emergency operator: “So hardly fallen or fallen hardly, can you clarify?”

Me: “Is this some sort of English grammar test?”

Emergency operator: “Sir, might your head be concussed?”

Me: “I beg your pardon. My sweetie and I do not swear in any manner. I am hanging up now.”

+++++

imaginary phone call #2

Me: “Thanks for answering Ramona. For the record, I wanted to let you know I have fallen in love but I can’t find anything broken.”

Insurance agent: “That’s good news. Let’s see. You chose to fall in love, correct? None of this predestination babble that is so popular now.”

Me: “Correct.”

Insurance agent: “Okay. Therefore, the timing of your decision actually precludes any coverage. You weren’t in love prior to obtaining your health policy, correct?

Me: “I’m not sure of the exact starting point of, as they say, my downward swoon. I think I was in a very “heavy like” when I took out your policy. Would that make a difference?

Insurance agent: “We cover some pre-existing situations but…”

Me: Could this possibly come under some sort of giddy existential descent? Might that make anything resulting cover-able?

Insurance agent: “Remember your policy is with us and not Nietzsche and Camus Incorporated…

+++++

imaginary phone call #3

Me (to my therapist): “My newlywed wife Jenny and I just had a terrible row. She gets so jealous at the smallest thing.”

Therapist: “Give me an example of your conflicts as you know it take two to tango, or even foxtrot.”

Me: “Well, I wanted to go see “Little Women” at the theater…”

Therapist: (interjecting) that’s good, that’s a positive. A shared cultural experience is usually bonding for a relationship.”

Me: “My wife freaked. She accused me of harboring pedophile propensities.”

Therapist: “Uh, remember that Franky Lymon song “Why Do Fools Fall In Love?” Memorize the lyrics. (looking at her watch), Well, well, time flies. You’re two minutes and eighteen seconds appears up. ”

+++++

imaginary phone call #4

Me: “I thought we’d be a couple forever. Now, Deb’s dumped me and broken my heart.”

First Buddy: “Two words: duct tape. Wrap on a heavy dose. Works on everything. Your heart’ll be good as new in no time.”

Me: “No, it’s like my heart has been split with a sharp dagger.”

Second Buddy: “Free advice, date a cardiologist gal next.”

Me: (ruefully) “I gave her my heart so freely, certain it would be treated well.”

Second Buddy: “They say possession is 9/10s of the law. Even so, she didn’t steal it. It’s still yours, even if it’s in pieces, right? No small claims court here amigo.

First Buddy: “Get off and stay off Tinder. I’m sure your parents warned you years ago not to play around with any combustible material.

Me: (To the strains of of Jimmy Ruffin’s “What Becomes of the Brokenhearted?) “So what now?”

The buddies in unison: “Find someone who only packs Cupid arrows.”

Windows (more or less)

Blackened

smudged

crystalline

pristine

cracked

jagged

cob-webbed

transparent

stained (in the good way)

glassy glimpses

soul-peeping

expositions of humanity

behavioral truth-tellers

gatekeepers of light and dark

abbreviated life panes

Windex-demanding

and, sadly of course, evil progeny of Bill Gates

— inspired by a poetry writing class windows prompt

 

20th Century Narcissus

Grace has eluded me.

Damn her.

In my search, I swam the seven seas

rode the four winds

appealed for help from those in the high heavens

hired Sherlock Holmes

inquired with Interpol

lamentably, all to no avail

 

Grace never responded

all was silence

my pleas and petitions going for naught

my entreaties and beseeching just fading echoes hurtling into the void

On the bright side however, no accusations of stalking have ever been leveled at me

 

Then came the shocking news.

GRACE MADE AN APPEARANCE!!!!!

But minus me.

I failed without ever being in consideration

But she was of Irish heritage and so was I

Alfred Hitchcock even owned a house here in Scotts Valley

I have qualities so many envy

Settling for the prince of a shrimpy 500 acre monarchy?

Graceless, I am

Sinbad

Not speaking of the mariner Sinbad

But rather the negative behavioral declaration

It being a constant reminder to shun wrongdoing

The superego of monikers

Likely birthed from a spiritual tryst between a Catholic nun and Baptist fundamentalist

Not likely a blood relation of the unreformed Miss Deeds

Or her never married sister, Miss Chiveous

The Versatility of Sh*t

 

You can shoot the sh*t

also:

 

not know it

have it for brains

speak it fluently

don’t take it

have it together

get it together

be full of it

blow it up

step in it

have it hit the fan

smoke it

don’t give it

be a dip around it

label it good, bad or sorry

call it heavy

stir it up

get too old for it

ingest it as an imaginary sandwich

experience it as part of a storm

be down for it

sarcastically comment it doesn’t stink

not give a damn about it

say it’s deep

get it done

be up it’s creek minus a paddle

believe it is holy

serve it on a shingle

know it as the last name of Jack

not distinguish it from Shinola

not know it

make it up

have it together

not give a…

pair it with giggles

take none

label it tough

bring it forth or get off the commode