There once was a man named Chester,

Who had a parrot called Lester.


They went for a ride to Dover

and ended up getting pulled over.


The officer walked up right away

And asked Chester what he had to say,


As Chester opened his mouth to speak,

Lester replied, “Fuck you, Pardon me!”


The officer was nice and asked him twice,

Lester responsed “Fuck what? EXCUSE Me!”


Chester tried in vain to explain, but

The officer was quite put out,


I’m taking you in, he said with no grin and

Don’t you know that damn bird said, again


“Fucking Thank you!” with a sneer and poo.

The judge asked, what should I do with you?


 Is there something wrong with your head?

“Well, How the fuck are you?” Lester said.



 as they took them a way, he told the court,

“Have a Fucking nice day.” And shat on the door.


Sitting in the cell, side by side, Chester looked over

 What you say now you’ve got us in trouble?


Lester shook his head and puffed his chest,

And squawked, “Welcome home. Chester”


Tucked his head under his wing and went to sleep.







August 14, 2016


The soft padding of paws

 slip through the jungle growth,

 pushing aside dinner-plate leaves

 and pressing Crayola flower

 in the sponge below them.


The mirror glow above

a scenting nose

 is all the warning given

 as the crouch becomes a leap

 and a heartbeat becomes dinner.


Velvet lined ears twitch

 side to side, back and forth,

ever vigilant for the interloper’s steps

 pushing through the undergrowth

unaware of what lies there.






August 13, 2016

Daily Parade

Mama pulled out the stroller and

Put on my prettiest dress.

My heart started to beat faster

Cause I knew what this meant.


Will he be up on the roof or

Hammering a wall?

Will he talk to us this time or

Turn away like before?


As we get closer, mama fixes my hair

And I start to squirm and squeal.

I try to tell her to let me out

I can walk right up to him and make him see.


Would he notice my pretty bow or

My eyes just like his?

Would he swing me in his arms or

Bend and give me a kiss?


When we start to pass, a man walks over

But he isn’t him, so Mama keeps walking.

“He doesn’t work here anymore, Fran, so

You can please stop the daily parade.”


Didn’t he think I was pretty enough or

See my big smile and wave?

Doesn’t he know I love him or

Need him to be here with us?


Mama pushes us home a little slower.

My little heart hurts so much,

How could this be?

My Daddy doesn’t want me.




Daily Parade


August 13, 2016

Cat for Sale


The call came through the market

Setting small hearts off like a rocket

The thought of a small ball of fur

Brought feet skittering to hear the purr

Eyes widened upon reaching the destination

Mouths opened in “O’s” of surprised animation

This was no happy kitten sitting in a basket

But a scrappy Tomcat ready for action

Turning, all ran, their mother’s to locate, as

The call came through the market,




Cat for sale


August 13, 2016


Muscles need the brain

To make them work, except the

Heart. It’s a loner.




August 13, 2016



Sinewy tendrils push

Apart a crack,

Minute and invisible

Moving closer to a surface

Of air, and water, and sun

Tender hairs wiggle

Soil into small canals,

Stretching out, reaching for

Space, and nutrients, and life

Spindles of green shoot

Upward straight trajectory

Toward the golden orb giving

Energy, and strength, and color

Miniature face of petals opens

Inviting arms in a circle of scent

Beaming out a “come hither” to

Lady bugs, butterflies, and ants

Precious fluffs of powdery

Hitchhikers cling to legs and backs

As a cycle continues by

Wing, and trek, and wind.





August 13, 2016

Is it me?

There’s a face on my milk carton,

Every time I turn it around,

That face stares at me.

There’s a face in the grocery store,

Every time I walk through,

That face stares at me.

There’s a face at the Post Office,

Every time I post a letter,

That face stares at me.

There’s a number on the bottom

Of each page of paper under where

That face stares at me.

I wonder if I should call it

Every time I pass by a place where

That face stares at me, because

There’s a face in my mirror,

That looks like the face on the paper

That keeps staring at me.


Is it me?


August 13, 2016


Soft canopy shades,

Moon’s glory crept across the

Lake with time to spare.




August 13, 2016

An Extra Book

Have to make the note simple;

Can’t make too many mistakes.

She already embarrassed

Her clothes ain’t clean.

Maybe I should have argued harder

To get the landlord to let us in,

But I’m so tired, her brother and sister

So hungry, I just didn’t have it in me anymore.

“Dear Miss,

Can Tilla get anoter math book?

Our apartment lockd up, we cant git in

And her book in there.

Thank you, Esta

PS I know you dont care

But please dont let otters no.



An extra book


August 13, 2016

Ode to Opus

There is a little flightless bird that lives in my paper.

He has many friends and gets into many capers.

He has a perpetual tuxedo complete with bow tie

And he takes me back to a time when all was right.

His laughter and tears parallel mine.

He follows my life as if by design.

Although he is really just a drawing on paper,

He brings me joy in knowing he is forever.

His attitude never changes, he always sees

The brighter, greener side of the street.

Most important of all, when I look at him

I am with those I lost all over again.


Ode to Opus


August 13, 2016