Revolutions

ONE day,

long after I have

shaved my last shave,

someone may turn to

someone else, and say,

“I bet George is

spinning in his grave.”

***

And no doubt

they will hit that square

on the chin,

for what else is there to

do in a grave, but spin?

***

Still, who can

reasonably say, I thought,

for maybe that day,

my plan was to stay

completely still, and rot

***

That is why my friends

I come to-day to tout

that my grave is to be

automated,

so as to erase all doubt.

***

Just press the button

on my tomb-stone,

you’ll be happy you enquired.

And what’s best,

the button is free

to press!

No offense in my name

required.

***

AND finally then,

my friend,

for certain you will know,

for six feet

under-ground,

there I go!

Round and round and

round

***

Weeee!


bw party tref

Guardian of the super moist

Last night,

I was visited

by

the Angel of Food Cake!

***

Now exactly how this

angel got into my room

I do not know, as the door

was locked, but she

tapped a few times

on my forehead  to wake

me up.

***

The angel was dressed

entirely in paper & string,

and in her grip she held a

flaming cake-stand, made

of the finest Bakelite.

***

I asked the angel if

she had come from

heaven to bring me

cake.

***

But the angel

just laughed,

and said,

“Like you need cake.”

***

I said,

“Aww, come on,

please, angel,

I’ll put on some coffee.

It’ll be great.”

***

And lo,

the angel presented me with a

large cake of orange hue,

which I instantly recognized.

***

“Wait, carrot cake?”

I said.

“I hate carrot cake.”

***

Parenthetically, dear readers,

Carrot cake is the worst.

***

It’s like,

when you were a kid and

your parents told you there

would be NO desert unless

you ate all vegetables on

your plate.

— So, you did —

only to discover, later,

that dessert, was

more vegetables!

***

But, in reply, the angel

only smiled, winked an eye,

and exited out my bed-room

window

***

The next morning,

I left the carrot cake in the

office break-room,

un-touched, and still on

the flaming cake stand.

***

A few minutes later

I heard someone say,

“Oh, cake!” And, then,

“Ew.”

***

I hear you brother.

The christmas lesson

I’ll never forget the

Christmas our parents

told us that,

because it had been

a hard year, financially,

we could only ask for

one present a-piece

***

So, that Christmas

all that I asked for were

scarlet ribbons.

***

Pretty scarlet ribbons for my hair.

***

And come

Christmas morning,

I got them, too.

And they were

as beautiful as you

may imagine.

***

My sister got a

new computer, though,

and suddenly,

I realized

what I fool I had been.

***

Stupid ribbons.


MERRY CHRISTMAS!

pipe

IN this undated photo, Our Founder, deep in contemplation, relaxes by a warm fire, smoking a pretend pipe, and wondering, perhaps, what became of his actual pipe.

To know a man

They say you can’t

really know a man

until you spend

a day in his shoes.

***

But what of the man

who refuses to let me

wear his shoes?

***

And what of the man

who then threatens

physical violence

after I attempt to remove

his shoes anyway?

***

Can we ever really

know that man?

***

No, probably not.

***

At least, not without

those shoes.


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The Couch Elf by Mary Cellini

©2021