Seriously, Get A New Job and Don’t Expect Good Rhyming And And And


It’s a Tuesday afternoon,

That’s why I’m taking all your money.

When you’re working for an agency

Things can get real funny.

Money off for taxes, money off for what??

Money off for walking, money off for thought.

You’d think my job would pay for bills, and food, and other stuff

But actually, it doesn’t.

Does stuff rhyme with enough?

Part II

Question for the Universe at Large:  

How do you become president or director of something and climb up from the bottom rung of the ladder?  According to Life Long Observations Based Upon Experience (May, 2014, p. 304. par. 5), it’s not by being a hard worker or even by being good at what you do.

So what is it, then? Luck?  Balls?  Guts?   If you send me the correct answer, I will become the President of Something or Other and hire you.  You may begin at the bottom rung of the ladder.

Brought to you by Bold Letters and Italics for Life


A Poor Man and His Wallet


One word does have meaning

One glance and one shoe

The other day Heather
forgot she had two.
Two shoes for her feet.
A small piece of meat.
One bone for a pooch.
One skin colored brooch.

She walked through the forest
and tripped on a branch.
Tripping on logs is ok when your twenty
But quite something else when approaching seventy.
Excuse the rude words,
The curses and screams
When poor Heather went down
She split her side seams.
She called for some help
But no one heard her hoarse cries.
She laid there for hours
I am not telling lies.

Finally a young tot,
Away from his school,
Approached the old woman
And told her the rule.
Never go out
wearing only one shoe
Despite the fact that
It looks really cool.

Heather thanked the boy
For his insightful speech.
He walked away,
Eating a plum then a peach.

Did Heather return to her home, to her hearth?
Did she ever regret the day she was birthed?
These are good questions. The answers not clear.
But this story will be
continued next year.

A Day At The Post Office


A wonderless hap
A small dog in her lap
The dish filled with butter
is no replacement for a loving mother.
The phone filled with ads
A home swarming cats
A tiger, a leper,
An old man in a swing.
The fiery linguine
A cat in some jam
A purple postada
A 1 carat ring
So shiny, yet old
So smooth, yet so far
Whatever she wishes
She can get there
She hasn’t a car.

A Happy Story About Ice Cream


Ok, my last post was very sad, coming after an unfortunate spat between two humans.  Today, we will positively counteract the negative vibrations in the world with a fictional happy story and a recipe.  This is not to say that all happiness, is in fact fiction.

Once, there was a girl named Darliasus.  Darliasus loved to watch birds fly while eating ice cream.  Her favorite ice cream was a razzle.  Do you know what that is?

Razzle Recipe:

1 tub of vanilla ice cream

Add 1/3 cup of each of the following:

crushed peanuts

rice crispies

crushed sandwich cookies


Liberal amount of chocolate syrup



Continuation of Story:

Darliasus sat on the uppermost limb of a tree as she watched birds fly and listened to them sing.  How did she climb so high while holding a giant razzle in her right hand?  Very good question. Darliasus was an advanced climber.  She could climb using just the strength of her left hand.  To her, it was unthinkable to bird watch without ice cream. Perched in the tree, eating ice cream with her right hand and holding binoculars with her left, she noticed a most beautiful bird.  The bird had a cobalt blue head and wings, and sported an orange and white belly (see above image). Darliasus’s heart fluttered.  She wanted to watch that bird every day of her life.

Alas, it began to rain.  Lightening struck, thunder growled. The bird, who had been chirping just seconds before, suddenly went silent and fell to the ground with a thud.  Quick as a headless chicken, Darliasus scrambled from her perch.  Her feet touched the ground and she rushed to find the bird.  Yes, dear reader, the bird was found buried beneath a mulberry bush.  Cradling the bird in her empty ice cream bowl, Darliasus rushed home, tearing across fields of white cotton.

Darliasus tenderly named the bird Rain, for the pair had met just before the rain began to fall.  After close inspection, Darliasus found that Rain’s left wing was broken.  Darliasus was no veterinarian, nor did she ever harbor dreams of becoming one.  Yet, she consulted Google, who instructed her to fix the wing by wrapping it in sticky gauze.  Darliasus set the wing and fed the bird daily.  When the wing was strong, Daliasus lovingly removed the gauze.  Rain flew into the wild with nary a glimpse back, leaving Darliasus behind to wonder about Rain and dream that one day they would meet again.

Thirty two years later:

The two never did meet again.