Ode to the Pig: His Tail

Ode to the Pig: His Tail by Walter R. Brooks

My tail is not impressive
but it’s elegant and neat.
In length it’s not excessive-
I can’t curl it round my feet-
But it’s awfully expressive
and its weight is not excessive,
and I don’t think it’s conceit,
or foolishly possessive
If I state with some agreessive-
ness that that it’s the final master touch
That makes a pig complete.

BTW: Completely unrelated to the poem, Happy Birthday Mother. I’d say how old you are, but I’d prefer to make it through the year with all my limbs still attached.

Ode to the Pig: His Tail

Scarlet Ice

One of my favorite erasure poems I have done, using text from Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar. I really feel like I should do more erasure poems eventually, but doing them properly is quite a bit of work, and I can hardly get myself writing new material, let alone going through the selection process for an erasure.

Continue reading “Scarlet Ice”

Scarlet Ice

The Sad Pawner

The Sad Pawner by Chris McDaniel

I turn the sign over once again, telling the world
that the shop is open once more,
that their trash can be exchanged for wonders galore.
I grab the old carpet and leave it unfurled
to entice newcomers with its exotic flair.
I polish lamps and baubles in slight disrepair,
Waiting for the tinny jingle of the bell,
To announce sellers with gold and shell.
I settle into my old rickety rocking chair,
Prepared for another day of disappointment,
While I wait and fight off despair.
This job is the only possible ointment,
The only hope at recovering a lost treasure
And finding life still has pleasure.

Once more the sign turns
And my heart still yearns,
For a tiny lost ring,
More precious than a spool of crystal string.

The Sad Pawner