Life Cycle


the friendly old slosh

of working on the wash


long past baby bibs

reader’s digest tips

and red stains from lips


suds sud





the mish-mosh

of OshKosh b’Gosh


growing pains

and grape juice stains

riding in Kenmore cavalcades


hopes and dreams

teenage tears and screams

and that spilled ice cream



a Swiss watch

wet in the wash


tick tock no more

a slam of the door

the mystery pair of muddied drawers


a prom dress no-no

pajama bottom hobo

bleach the whites thorough



that friendly old slosh

ever eager to watch


years gone by

always fill to the line

now an early bird before five


and so it’s grandkids

who come on weekend visits

o, what a life to be lived


Paris Hilton’s Vagina



Killer whales aren’t whales.

They’re actually dolphins.

All dolphins are whales.


Wiki teaches this.

Google will tell you this, too.

And it’s true, I swear.


How can I be sure?

Paris Hilton’s Vagina.

Just ask Chicago.

Continue reading “Paris Hilton’s Vagina”

On Writing


I write crappy poetry–

a lot of crappy poetry.

I use repetitive language,

wax superfluously,

and jot in a method archaic.


But not always.

At times it’s stream of consciousness filling a line ’til my words have gone too



I write to write,

for the sake of writing.

I write to the right,

forever chasing a blinking cursor. |

I write for rights

of speech and expression.

I’m alright with writing

assignments on deadline

though they tend to get pushed



Once in a while,

I’ll scribble down a story,

scrap it for trash

and not feel worried,

because it lives inside,

in my heart and in my mind,

while it mingles with thoughts

I thought I’d never find.

I think of myself as a writer

Am I a writer?

I’m doing a good job writing

As for being a writer,

I’m doing just fine.