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Itinerant Thumb? I hoped to travel, so I raised my thumb To hitch a ride. As cars rolled by at speed, I tried to look not too much like a bum, Nor like a wanted fugitive in need ... Experienced hitch-hikers thumbed a ride Repeatedly. I tried to ape their stance And moved my spot to where they weren't denied, Not realizing that I stood no chance Till from the spot where I first stood, some guy Took off at once. What did he know to do? How hard is making just one car stop by?— Unless the problem isn't what, but who! Must I admit I'd never make the grade? ... Back home I trudged. It's where I should have stayed! (First published on 31st May, 2022 in the Creativity Webzine) |
Hippopotamuses Hot days make hippopotamuses laze In muddy rivers, wishing they could be Patrolling in cool oceans, touring bays Predaciously, with cousins on the tree Of evolution—had they not diverged, Perhaps today they'd feed alongside whales, On tasty flesh that nature has submerged ... Though, since they did, their diet now entails A nightly mound of vegetative sward Most often grass. But should a crocodile Unduly trespass, it is sometimes gored, So hippos can play carnivores awhile— Envisioning the life they'd have today, Should evolution not have had its way! (First published in the Summer 2022 issue of WestWard Quarterly) |
Owl and Pussy Cat Owl courted Pussy in a pea-green boat With lots of banknotes and a small guitar. Love blossomed as he cleared his owlish throat And twanged and sang, "How beautiful you are!" Notes from his mouth were far off key, but she Desired the other notes he'd wisely shown. Puss lied: "How charmingly you sing for me Upon guitar, the sweetest voice I've known!" She said: "Let us be wed. We need a ring." So off they sailed to Bong-Tree Land. A whole Year later there, a Piggy-wig's nose bling Cost just a shilling, and fulfilled their goal. A turkey wed them. Now they have three sirs: Two flying cats, one owl who mews and purrs! (First published on 31st October, 2022 in the Creativity Webzine) |
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Mathematicians Mired deep in thought, and faced toward the board, A math prof counts on fingers and on thumbs. There's something he hopes students have ignored— He's totally incompetent at sums! Euclidian geometry's a breeze. Moore algebras are just a piece of cake. And yet, addition brings him to his knees, The moment there's some sum he's asked to make. I blame his parents. When their kid excelled Computing mentally, they made him add Incessantly, until the kid rebelled— Addition got deliberately bad ... No wonder that when they become alums, So many mathematicians can't do sums! (First published in the Fall 2022 issue of WestWard Quarterly) |
Storm In A Teacup Should oh be long or short in "scone"? At tea, This question's apt to vex a Brit. The long- Oh backers highlight that the OED Reads long then short—although short isn't wrong; Macmillan puts it first. Scones raise a storm Inside a teacup even if you are Not fussed by how they're said: a Devon norm Adjudges spreading cream before the jar That holds the jam is broached. The Cornish way Enjoins the opposite. It brews a fight. And even if you stay above this fray, Can you be sure you'll pour the tea out right, Unmilked—or else the other way it's done? ... Perhaps you'd rather coffee with a bun? (First published in the Summer/Fall 2022 issue of Light on 31st October, 2022) |
Back Home At Last Back home at last in Britain, I behold A lot unchanged since when I went away: Concern about the weather, never old, Keeps conversation going night and day, Hot tea is still the tonic to restore One's spirits, English cricketers still lose Most games against the colonies of yore, Et cetera. As lines morph into queues Again, and zees to zeds, I contemplate That I'm no Rip Van Winkle after four Long decades toasting in the Sunshine State ... And yet, I rue what's new: FL's now more Survivable in summer than GB— The houses on this island lack AC! (First published in the Winter 2023 issue of WestWard Quarterly) |