140 bob

“Bob’s your uncle.”
No he’s not.“
Why not?”
I’ve got no uncles.
“Bob’s your aunt?”
Indeed, Roberta.
“K”
& with a flourish finished the play.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

April - NaPoWriMo - 6

On keeping a picture of my dog as a screensaver. Desktop, the screen- Saver, it seems Alright. She used to wait; Me typing; her fate My plight. Face turned away; Eyes turned; they say Goodbye. Why do I keep Her picture? See, Still mine. Look in her eyes— Still black and white, Still shine. Memories can’t feel Memories can’t steal The time. Image refreshed Background redressed Hey there. Dark against light Dream against night Not fair. Can’t hear her paws Can’t see her—pause— Not there. Can’t feel her fur Watching her stir Aware. Till one last time, One last sad line, Despair. Desktop: The screen Saver still seems alright. Written for ReadWritePoem #6, converse with images
Read more

April - NaPoWriMo - 14

the father held the answers and the reasons in his heart seasons for hope the start of all things keeping promises too close for flower’s bloom, the towering gloom of forest, watchman’s doom was filled, o’erpowering dreams that waited till the world’s unraveling restart, rebuild and he the holy braid repeating all he’s fallen still for wind that blows the promise filling the seasons reasoning sweet answers keeping home-fires burning hope returning heart still yearning sends the one who understanding this flashes furious flame unleashed a breeze that forest’s trees can speak its words true hope eternally forsaken, newly heard. Written for ReadWritePoem #14: a CLEAVE poem: The left hand (bold) words form the first stanza. Right hand (unbold) words are the second. And the whole poem read normally is its own third stanza. At least, I think that's what the definition meant.
Read more

April - NaPoWriMo - 12

The broken window won’t let me in. The slide’s on its side in the garden With carrots and turnips climbing through dreams Where broken glass refuses to let me pass. Childhood ends when your thumbs turn green. The broken window’s outside the house And shadows fill the rooms But a mouse is hiding underneath geranium blooms And the stadium roars for victories unseen. I think if I pretend I’m inside I’ll see the toys and games and realize That nothing’s changed. Old lady sits in her chair and knits While carrots and turnips and climbing frames Slide through her dreams. Written for ReadWritePoem # 12 - nonsense sentence secret code
Read more