A good idea for a
book on pet burial,
would be a
hollowed-out book
Birdvertising
Last night,
I was awoken by a raven
that had flown in through
my open window, and
perched itself atop my book-case.
.
Who is there? I cried.
Let me give you what for!
But t’wasn’t human that answered.
.
Said the raven,
“Dinty Moore”
.
Tell me, bird, I asked.
Are you an omen, or divine?
Is this a message of the future?
Of what I have in store?
But my plea it went unanswered.
.
Said the raven,
“Dinty Moore”
.
Wait, I said,
as suddenly I knew.
Dinty Moore?
The beef-stew?
.
Is that why you bother me?
Is this what you tout?
Is that why you woke me?
.
Said the raven,
“I’ll show myself out.”
part two
The next morning,
still in my kerchief & night-gown,
I sat with a cup of coffee at
the breakfast nook;
lit a bowl, & pondered my
passerine pop-in ad.
.
And how, despite the intrusion,
I suppose some beef-stew
did sound pretty good.
.
When suddenly,
there was a tapping at my window.
It was another raven!
This one dressed smart —
.
In a pressed white shirt
with black tie — taut.
On a card table was an e-meter.
.
Said the raven,
“Would you like to see a thought?”
Early worm
If scientists one day
discover a worm-hole in the fabric of time & space,
I hope they’re big enough to admit that the worm
discovered it first.
Back in the Sleepy Hollow days, if you
lost your head in an industrial accident,
the insurance companies gave you
a horse & a pumpkin.
Ghosts of refreshment past
Grandma
told us she would make us
her famous lemonade.
But she didn’t have all the ingredients. So,
she asked us to pray to God for a lemon.
We did,
— but none was forthcoming.
To our surprise, grandma just smiled, winked & said,
she would make lemonade out
of our predicament.
… But none of us were looking to drink
that shit.
PROMOTED AD
LIFE IS SHORT. AND SO IS THE NEXT ONE.
Start a career in trefology to-day!
Contact us now at the phone number you think most likely
In trefology, what was eft is now newt
I was never very good at practical jokes.
Often-times,
after ringing the doorbell,
I would forget to run away.
And when the door opened,
there I would be,
— standing there,
snickering into my hand,
like some kind of no good at doorbell-ditch kid
A girl named, sincerely
I used to know a girl named, Sincerely.
When she moved away,
I tried to write her a letter to
express all the things in my heart.
It was a very short letter.
It began,
Dear Sincerely,
George.
P.S. Once again,
I have run out of room.
ii.
Then, at the bottom of the letter,
I added a bunch of X’s and O’s.
Telling her,
… this is what tic-tac-toe looks like
unbridled by the number sign.
Modern necromancy
The restless spirit of the
Spanish ventriloquist, Senor Wences
has begun communicating through me,
using my hand as a vehicle, just
as he once did his famous characters.
ii.
I say this to you, confidentially, &
only because, Senor Wences, has intimated
that he has something very important
to tell you …
about the future!
iii.
So, pull up a chair, as I
don’t want you miss
a single word.
iv.
But before you do,
let me first apply some lip-stick to
my thumb and forefinger.
v.
Because, friend,
there is something else I should tell you.
Senor Wences —
wants to kiss you!
