Locked inside the car,
the air getting more stagnant,
I feel like a dog
Locked inside the car,
the air getting more stagnant,
I feel like a dog
He reads poetry
while she drives down the highway,
each page holds a curve
Summer's finally
here: blue sky, high temps, it may
last a week or two
We saw Sting perform
in Vegas. There were no crimes,
no Police in sight
I did not gamble
in Vegas, except for a
couple food choices
------------------------------
Summer's finally
here, almost July, Winter
will be coming soon
Las Vegas is for
gamblers, drinkers and liars,
just like in D.C.
During her doctor
visit, I wait in the car,
watching for movement
Let me tell you all
about my trip to Vegas!
Oh wait...that damn rule!
They serve food, drinks at
the chapel, so folks can eat,
drink and get married
Juneteenth is the one
holiday we know the least;
oh wait, Arbor Day
The last hour of
a Friday work shift always
ticks off the slowest
---------------------------------
The extroverts chat,
new friends sharing secrets, while
I keep mine locked tight
Dictionary words
are alphabetical, so
you can define them
Quasimodo may
not have been psychic, but he
always had a hunch
She got Covid for
her birthday, which sucks, but is
still better than socks
Her Covid birthday,
we decided against her
blowing out candles
She got Covid for
her birthday; truly the gift
that keeps on giving
The cruise is almost
over; back to land, back to
work, back to our lives
-----------------------------
She got Covid for
her birthday; less a gift, more
an experience
She can light up rooms
with her smile, as long as she
also has matches
This vacation was
supposed to be relaxing,
so why am I stressed?
It only took me
three days to anger her, a
brand new record
First morning in a
new city. I'm glad I'm here,
and wish I was home.
Almost two hours
to get over the border.
Canada's that good!
Skittles says, "Taste the
Rainbow," which means Randy must
be very happy
------------------------------------------
On vacation, an
alarm clock should be banned by
law, or at least shunned
My poetry is
moving at the speed of life,
or maybe faster
When my eyes are hot,
I'm either sick, or I'm too
close to the fire
He writes to remove
the thorns from his heart, but the
wounds may never heal