Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Late Nite Greta


I once dated a girl who liked poetry.  I mean, we went on one date.  OK, not really a date, since I didn't get a chance to ask her out.  But I was about to as we walked out of class.  Here's the extent of our conversation.

Her: I like poetry.

Me:  Yeah, like what?

Her: Shall I compare thee to a summer day?

Me: Well, summer days are pretty long.  That's a good comparison, if you know what I mean.

Her: See ya.


Sorry, I just felt like sharing.  I'll stop now.  Here's Greta.


From College Misery, December 19, 2010


Bad Sunday Haiku


I.

I count your points. Blond-
haired 'flake who begs redemption,
there is no Santa.

II.

My inbox screams at
me, flails its monstrous arms and
stomps: Save us! Save us!

III.

Sunday night, five days
away from mandatory
family time, I pour

the scotch and grade the
research essays: pain now, some
to look forward to.

IV.

Here at the CC,
we smile because we have to;
customer service.

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