11 Poems I wrote in 30 minutes



A Miami-Dade Renegade staring softly at the sky

Asks again of you, whatsoever do I do

My life has passed me by

like a flapjack in the sky

and by the by and by

It’s so easy to realize

that in the end what you get

is ever so smelly and damn soaking wet



The Topaz crystal Manwich

comes crashing to the floor

is there someone at the door?


The Purolator

Purple Flobie Kitchen Wonder

Cuts and slices bits and wedges

Strawberry cream, raspberry dream

Canadian Clockwork capitulated scream

Clairvoyant corporal kleptomanian Kraut

Clippity Clack like a hammer sack


Jim Dandy

Multiscented masculacious Merryment

Miguel, so well, standing six feet under

For a penny’s worth of work

stands firmly in his shirt

so nifty that its thrifty


Trim and Proper

Conceited Candice Clifton

and her conscious crustaceous cat

can kiss me blarney ass

for a dandy nickel hat

For if it comes ahead to soon

and the ship arrives by noon

By gum, we’ll all be late

and have to face our fate

and stand in line some more

for a chance to see the whore

turning tricks on nasty hicks

with her face down on the floor



light and dark at the amusement park

a rare sight to see

As the August sky stands idly by

and cooks me apple pie


Going to Missouri (A tribute to Stephen Foster)

Happy Days Mayonnaise

Quite a thing to be

With a garden hose on tippy toes

and an anvil on my knee


Standing In a Field

Mango Tango Banjo Nacho

Halifax artichoke periwinkle backstroke

catapult kilovolt raving sense of buttermint

standing amongst my prose



carbonic hair tonic motorcycle vomit

half-track switchback climatic comet

excelsior knifeblade ravenous twit

hairpiece for my aunt’s niece

and Fred’s colonic expertise


The shoe salesman / musician

conformist pianist stuffed shirt retail clerk

standing tall down at the mall hard at work.

Selling his shoes and singing the blues

As the Lozier looks on at this little pawn

and his shiny penny tie

For wouldn’t it be a shame just to see

this man get kicked in the knee


An ode to the pre-affirmative action era secretary

bureaucratic hat rack back to the wall

her desk by the door, filing cabinet in the hall

firmly pushing piney pencil stick

in her short woolen skirt and tight Angora shirt

as she bends over I see a show just for me

I can smell the Wrigley’s gum

and see the gleam in her eye

through the black slanted specs on her nose so high

and her spherical hairdo like a dot on an i

teases me softly, just a girl for a guy