A DAY AT THE OFFICE

Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads


d'Verse Poets Pub









I once interviewed a guy
applying for a job
who had a booger clinging to his upper lip


you can prepare all you want
for an interview
and read the advice from all those experts


they tell you to stay calm
they tell you to learn something about the company
they tell you not to be too chatty


nobody tells you to check for boogers


this is a serious flaw in the
advice given out by experts


I felt bad for the guy
but you know
you really can't have people like that
running around the office 


I didn't point it out to him
because we were supposed to send a follow-up letter
to all the applicants who weren't hired
saying although you were not selected at this time
we will keep your resume on file
in the event of future openings


which was bullshit


I knew I would not have to send the letter
because when he got home
and looked in the mirror
he would know the score

Poetry picnic

I 
want 
a

Ubangi 
woman...

Ibangi 
 u  

and

Ubangi 
me

HINDSIGHT

If  I could trade
about half the things 
I've done
for half the things
I haven't done...


things wouldn't have been
as half-assed
as they turned out to be 

MEN OF THE ROAD

Poetry Potluck--With Real Toads

Funny Bunny Fridays--d'Verse Poets Pub

rub-a-dub-dub

three guys in a club
called Boys Town
just across the Mexican line
and I was lookin' so 


fine
when she came over to me
so fresh-faced
in what must have been 
a blonde wig


i tried to read 
her body language
but it was in Spanish
and the only words I 
knew were quanto es?


and


while ultimately 
legal tender
was exchanged 
for counterfeit love
there was something there
that fit like a glove
and she wanted me to spend
the night
with the meter turned off




but


we were men of the road
and it was time to hit it


just outside of town
we spotted a peasant
lying prone in the ditch
drunk
or maybe dead


Jake stopped the car
and went sprinting back there
(thought maybe he was concerned)
but he came trotting back
with the man's hat in hand
and he wore that trophy
all the way to Panama


our code of the road
had been set
though we were still wet
behind the ears
we roared on outta there
lookin' for adventure
in whatever came our way


still eons away
from the day
when the sweet bird of youth
would take a massive crap
on our windshield 

BACK IN THE DAY

Poetry Potluck--With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub


She had a checkered past.

But with my thrift store

mentality, I didn't mind buying used--

(there's something very cozy

about things that are broken in)

long as it looked like

it would stand up to the

wear and tear. 

One day she said to me:

Why are you with me?

I'm such a whore.

I like whores, I said.

She gave me a look of utter incredulity.

But if she had thought about it,

even a little,

she would have figured that out

the third time we visited 

the Salvation Army store. 

BLAST FROM THE PAST

With Real Toads -Poetry Potluck- d'Verse Poets Pub

in the quick

roaring spin 

of time

moments cascade into yesterday

like a waterfall in a dream 

a flower

a stolen hour

a superpower

a viper

a sniper

a windshield wiper

spin in the eternal eddy

as the man behind the mask

harbors secrets

hidden meanings

glimpsed through patchy fog

too dangerous to share 

with anyone but you

all the rocks and all the stars

the reasons poetry and symbolism exist

I'm just a visitor

a loner with a boner

in the star magnificence

an existence

devoid of meaning

and grace

the battered corpses of love

 strewn along my tracks

yet still there is wonder

us

them

uncertainty

the unknown

the astounding scheme of things

hypnotized we wander

Casanova

a supernova

Martina Navratilova

a candelabra

a chupacabra

choose the next palabra 

time sails by on the breeze

and yet 

like you

I  stand my ground

in for a penny

in for a pound

along for the ride 

starry-eyed

and hanging on every word

this blast 

from the past

brought to you by

the 

lingering 

essence 

of

me

WANT AD

Desperately seeking                                                                   d'Verse Poets Pub

someone to love
someone to hate
a reason to humiliate


Desperately seeking
to find some direction
to make a connection
to feel your rejection


Desperately seeking
a Ginsu knife
the meaning of life
somebody's wife


Desperately seeking
my moment of fame
where to lay the blame
and end to this shame


Desperately seeking
a shot at the top
some wings when I drop
back into the slop


Desperately seeking
Susan
Fernando
Willy
and Betty Jean
a place to lie down
and a chance to come clean


Desperately seeking
to find a new game
like ants a a picnic
where nobody came

Shadow Shot Sunday

Shadow Shot Sunday 2

ASSAD

photo public domain

JUST BECAUSE
                              He's mild mannered...


JUST BECAUSE
                              He's a natty dresser...


JUST BECAUSE
                            He's a doctor...


JUST BECAUSE
                            He's not a short little guy...


JUST BECAUSE
                           He doesn't comb his hair to one side...


JUST BECAUSE
                            He doesn't have that same funny looking mustache...


                         .
JUST BECAUSE
                            He wouldn't ordinarily strike you as a  madman...


JUST BECAUSE
                            THE WORLD ISN'T DOING A DAMN THING ABOUT HIM...

TIME GOES BY FOR NO GOOD REASON

d'Verse Poets Pub   Poetry Potluck

You, my fantasy island
by the seashore,
by the madness.
You're not from around here--
the planet, I mean. 


You, the mystery of mythic proportions--
like trying to decipher the lyrics to "Chasing Pavements."


You call to me on a super high frequency
that only dogs and angels can hear,
and I hasten to your side
just to let you take me for a ride.
And yes, cowboys do still exist,
but you've decided to give in to me
only on certain patriotic holidays and February 29th.


And you think of compromise
the way a field of daisies is compromised
by a free-standing outhouse--
our conversations a verbal game of paddle ball. 
If I hold your comments to the light
will I see a validating watermark?


And what kind of woman sees that I am falling for her, 
and all she can do is stand back and yell TIMBERRRR???
Yes, I am easy to manipulate--blindly optimistic,
as when Noah said: Yes, but we could sure use the rain.
The hapless grin that indicates an alarming loss of brain cells.


But there are penalties for scofflaws like you
who break the rules of love while smiling so sweetly.
Ooh...don't kiss me now...
who knows where those lips have been?


Sooner or later we must choose
to embrace life, or hold it at arms length,
now and then giving into wild abandon. 
But you say if we dance naked in the rain
who will do our choreography?


Romance is poetry
not ambiguity...
one day the heavens will part
and love will prevail...


May I have this samba?