For no reason in particular I've written a couple dorky poems on Twitter this week. I figured I may as well share them with you.
This morning, Jack&June experienced a small kitchen fire. After I found out that everybody was safe and the damage was minimal, I wrote:
Is currently strewn
With the remnants of a morning fire.
One call to the station
And the conflagration
Was quickly forced to expire.
I was trying to do a riff on the classic Jack and Jill rhyme. I'll let you be the judge of my success.
Yesterday, a tweet by Fletch about the long line outside Tastee and the effects that dining there can have on one's digestive system inspired these lines that'll make Poe roll in his grave:
In Lincoln on 48th Street
Sits a place of memories neat
Serving sandwiches of loose meat
From opposite the driver's door.
As you snarf and slurp and nibble
At the greasy sloppy kibble
Your colon hints of coming dribble
And you declare: Nevermore.
Publishers are calling me 24/7 trying to sign me to a book deal.