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Description
9/30

I haven’t been able to say much yet
To your response, a confession of sorts
That has me speechless what to say, I fret.

You suddenly now exist in my world ;
With a comment that begins as regret.
I sit up and blink at what follows next:

I’m a kid in a sweet shop who dares you
For samples of everything on display,
Of candy cane, choc’late & car’mel chew.

A sailor on leave, in port, feeling piss’d
From tankards of ale he’s yet to consume,
With hostess on knee he hasn’t yet

And tossing my horns ‘midst all of the crash,
A bull with cash in an arcade of glass,
That knows it’s his fifteen minutes of fame.

A stay-at-home mom of three under age
Who hears a loud tapping at the front door
As babe in her arms throws milk on the floor.

It’s Publishers Clearing House, and a crew
With six-figure check as big as a plank,
With chance of a lifetime... what do I do?

I go to your site and read everything
Just on the front page, and no poetry,
First wanting to know just how do you rank.

Reminding me when as a child back home
At kitchen table reading boxes alone
For breakfast before the school bus arrives,

Chewing on flexy-straws, crossing my eyes,
Tapping my shoes as I scan the box flaps:
Lucky Charms, Cap’n Crunch & Apple Jacks.

I saw the word “sapiosexual”,
And that’s when I knew that my cereal
Was anointed w’ pink milk this morning.

My mom had stir’d in the QUIK powder’d mix,
Strawberry-flavored kind, out of my mind,
And ran for the bus on each day’s sugar rush.

I told you I was speechless didn’t I?

Description
9/30

I haven’t been able to say much yet
To your response, a confession of sorts
That has me speechless what to say, I fret.

You suddenly now exist in my world ;
With a comment that begins as regret.
I sit up and blink at what follows next:

I’m a kid in a sweet shop who dares you
For samples of everything on display,
Of candy cane, choc’late & car’mel chew.

A sailor on leave, in port, feeling piss’d
From tankards of ale he’s yet to consume,
With hostess on knee he hasn’t yet

And tossing my horns ‘midst all of the crash,
A bull with cash in an arcade of glass,
That knows it’s his fifteen minutes of fame.

A stay-at-home mom of three under age
Who hears a loud tapping at the front door
As babe in her arms throws milk on the floor.

It’s Publishers Clearing House, and a crew
With six-figure check as big as a plank,
With chance of a lifetime... what do I do?

I go to your site and read everything
Just on the front page, and no poetry,
First wanting to know just how do you rank.

Reminding me when as a child back home
At kitchen table reading boxes alone
For breakfast before the school bus arrives,

Chewing on flexy-straws, crossing my eyes,
Tapping my shoes as I scan the box flaps:
Lucky Charms, Cap’n Crunch & Apple Jacks.

I saw the word “sapiosexual”,
And that’s when I knew that my cereal
Was anointed w’ pink milk this morning.

My mom had stir’d in the QUIK powder’d mix,
Strawberry-flavored kind, out of my mind,
And ran for the bus on each day’s sugar rush.

I told you I was speechless didn’t I?