FOR A YOUNG LADY IN AN OLD CAR DRIVING SLOW

So I honked my horn

when you probably can’t help how fast

that poor car goes

I’ve driven cars that wouldn’t accelerate over 45

But it had been a bad day

and you were anonymous

when you pulled out in front of me

There by the theater near my favorite restaurant

my angry tooting could have been as much because

you are young and blond and couldn’t wait

and I am old and slowing down

Valerie Gilreath, 1995

tsunami

my words have garnered response from another
uncounted miles lie between, so where to now?
an emotional tsunami raging across a bleak sea

silent screams drowning out my frantic plea
all this while I continue to be amazed at how
my words have garnered response from another

unexpected acknowledgement from this other
brings a tense wrinkling to my fevered brow
an emotional tsunami raging across a bleak sea

a roiling darkness through which I yearn to see
a single glimpse inside those thoughts tell how
my words have garnered response from another

whose outreach I fear that I am fated to smother
should anything worse than empty words follow
an emotional tsunami raging across a bleak sea

bringing more unwarranted emotions that bother
this hint of forbidden thoughts I should never allow
my words have garnered response from another
an emotional tsunami raging across a bleak sea

pleasing

There are three infallible ways of pleasing an author,
and the three form a rising scale of compliment:
1, to tell him you have read one of his books;
2, to tell him you have read all of his books;
3, to ask him to let you read the manuscript
of his forthcoming book.
No. 1 admits you to his respect;
No. 2 admits you to his admiration;
No. 3 carries you clear into his heart.

— Mark Twain, “Pudd’nhead Wilson’s Calendar”

panjandrum

So she went into the garden
to cut a cabbage leaf,
to make an apple pie;
and at the same time
a great she-bear
coming up the street,
pops its head into the shop.
‘What! no soap?’
So he died,
and she very imprudently
married the barber;
and there were present
the Picninnies,
and the Joblillies,
and the Garyulies,
and the grand Panjandrum himself,
with the little round button at top;
and they all fell to playing
the game of catch as catch can,
till the gunpowder ran out
at the heels of their boots

Samuel Foote