The car windows are steamy.
My chest is warm and bare.
My fingers tingle, running
Gently through her golden hair.
Her chin is in my fingers
And I pull her lips to mine.
Our tongues do dance a tango
That defines the word divine.
I pause, she gasps and whimpers
But I say “I’ll be back soon.”
I step into the parking lot
Beneath the crescent moon.
I can read “humane society”
Despite the evening fog.
I tell the clerk “I’ll take her,”
And that’s how I met my dog.
Filed under Poems
I see a little spider
Crawling up my leg.
A part of me is screaming!
It wants to plead and beg,
But as the beast gets closer
My mind begins to clear
And I realize that, in this spider,
I have nothing to fear.
And so I watch her scuttle
From my ankle to my knee.
My two green eyes watch her
And her eight black eyes watch me,
And as our eyes make contact
I feel our spirits join.
The spider and I are friends now
As she crawls over my groin.
The spider meets my pelvis.
She passes o’er my hips.
Where once they brought me horror
Her eyes could now sink ships.
Her silky brunette body
Tempts me towards an unnamed sin
And I find myself attracted
To a patch that looks like a violin.
The spider now is crawling
Onto my left pectoral
And my mind’s engaged in matters
Of arrangements marital and floral.
She crawls onto my neck now,
Her gorgeous eyes the size of fleas.
She’s nearly to my head now
And I’m nearly on my knees.
She crawls onto my soul patch
And one of her footies slips.
I catch it and replace it
And she crawls onto my lips.
A kiss! A kiss! How lovely
As her mandibles meet mine.
I slip off into a restful sleep
As on me she starts to dine.
I don’t wake up that evening,
Nor tomorrow, nor the next,
Yet dead and cold as I may be
I do not feel vexed.
So when you see such spiders
In their web or in their lair
Instead of giving them the Kleenex
Try to show them that you care.
For though you’ll never meet them
On account of being desiccated
Your eyes will fill with baby spiders
To which you just might be related.
The babies ask “where’s daddy?”
And mommy spider’ll have a chat
And then they’ll go find love like us.
What’s more beautiful than that?
Filed under Lyrics
She was a starving art history student,
Forced by fate towards whatever was prudent,
Yet she had a temptation she could not evade…
A man, in a sense, who with her heart played.
He was the Egyptian God of the dead,
With unlimited power and an animal’s head,
Yet despite devestation he doled out at will
His heart had an urge that he just couldn’t kill.
Her focus was on just money and Monet.
All of existence was under his sway.
She spent her days in the study of cubists.
He spent his evenings just being Anubis.
Somehow the two met at a holiday party.
She thought him a bad boy. He thought her a smarty.
The exchanged numbers and met up for brunch.
She loved his mystique. He loved how her bones crunch.
Yet, deep as their love was, they each said good bye
For they’d not live together unless she would die.
So ends the tale of this starcrossed romance
Of a girl and a God, both with un-gotten-into-pants.
Filed under Poems
Some sayings sound satisfying
But don’t apply to real life,
Like “what comes up must come down”
Doesn’t work for the weight of my wife…
Filed under Poems
You ask will I love you
When you’re not a young lass,
When your hair’s gray and saggy
And so is your ass,
When the passion is gone
And the money is thin
And everything hurts
‘Neath our wrinkly skin.
Our hands come together
And I look straight at you.
“Of course I will darling!
“I already do.”
Filed under Poems
In fair Verona, long ago
Lived fair Juliet and her Romeo,
Two kids who, about each other, raved
And whom better communication skills could have saved.
For in a land where alchemists
Can make you look dead if your parents are pissed
Informing your partner of your choice to partake
In such a substance is a wise choice to make,
But neh! Knowing better, the 15 year old
Pair of lovers thought the others needn’t be told.
And thus was a theatrical masterpiece born
To suffice in an era with no access to porn.
This is why I didn’t call;
I just want our love to conquer all.
Filed under Poems
“Where should we sit?” I ask.
She says “Anywhere.”
So I sit in the corner,
And she says “but not there.”
So we move to the middle,
Which she doesn’t like too much.
We sat outside, but the people
Were bums, singers, and such.
We walked out to Jamaica,
And she seemed ok with that,
And I went back to the corner
With a tip of my “are you really wearing that” hat.
The Daily Travesty 