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Month: January 2022

Cat ‘n Coke

My cat is stalking my tall glass
  Of ice cold Diet Coke;
First he’s sniffin’ in the air
  Then in it, his feet poke.

The fizz is bubblin’ up inside
  And popping in his face;
And every time it wets his nose
   He shakes away the trace.

What fascinates him, I don’t know
  But ‘round and ‘round he’ll go;
Circles left, then to the right
  And sometimes to and fro.

At times he stops and he appears
  To try to bury it;
He digs away with both his paws 
  While I just simply sit.
Occasionally he looks at me,
  As if he wonders why
I don’t see the urgency
  And help the little guy.

A stranger beast you’ll never find
  (Unless you count ex-wives);
Habitually peculiar
  Each day of their nine lives. 
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They’ve started the analysis,
The media’s erudite;
Sifting through the artifacts
Of someone’s final night.

Drawn to all celebrity,
The newshounds found a friend,
When Chris Benoit, a wrestler,
Brought three lives to an end.

He strangled both his wife and kid,
Then messaged every friend
Instructing them to feed the pets;
A chore he’d usually tend.

Then he strolled into his gym
And found his way to die;
Equipment used to make him strong
His strength would soon deny.

Inserted then into the news,
Reporters gathered ‘round
The family home of Chris Benoit
Their theories to expound.

Was it the steroids that he took,
Did drinking play a part?
He beat his wife, his kid was shot;
Was evil in his heart?
They’re interviewing everyone
Who knew the wrestler’s name;
Doctors, lawyers, Indian chiefs,
To find someone blame.

Here’s a guy, in middle age,
Whose body’s so enhanced
By anabolic steroid shots
He’d pop if he were lanced.

He crawls around a wrestling ring
In underwear too tight,
Affecting every macho move
In manufactured fights.

Clearly wrestlers so employed
To ‘round the country work
The ranks of Wrestling Mania,
Are plagued by little quirks.

I’m thinkin’ that stability’s
Not needed for a job
That calls for you to roll around
In spandex with some slob.

Were signs ignored, did voices mute
A wrestler’s helpless cry?
A few more days they’ll poke around
And search for reasons why. 

All the while the answer lies
Upon the printed page -
The application for a job
Upon the wrestling stage. 
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Man vs Beast

This should come as no surprise,
A shock it shouldn’t be;
Compared to man more rational,
The lowland chimpanzee.

An anthropological institute
In Leipzin, Germany;
Tested men and chimpanzees
To see what they could see.

An economic game was hatched,
A game of choice to share;
Then scientists determined which
More rational the pair.

Rewards were given to the pair,
To keep them they must share;
So each to other’d offer some,
In terms they thought were fair.

If the offer was denied
Then neither got the prize;
When the games concluded then
They knew which one was wise.

The human offered nearly half
Of everything to share,
But wouldn’t take an offer less
Though nothing then they’d bear.

The monkeys on the other hand,
Would offer less than fair;
But not an offer they’d deny,
Accepting any share.

The monkeys’ own self-interest served,
They’d offer less than fair;
Unwilling too to pay the cost
To punish those unfair.

And so if judged by rationale,
The chimpanzee’d exceed
The reasoning of humankind
In serving its own need.
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A Mighty Big Boy

He’s in the book of records now,
The biggest boy you’ll find;
Manuel Uribe’s huge
And lives a life maligned.

Twelve hundred pounds of people
Are rolled into this man;
Four hundred pounds though smaller
Than he used to span.

Confined within his bedroom
For most of forty years;
Too big to venture outside
For heart attacks he fears.

He started a foundation
To help the overweight;
To share his fat condition
With others of his fate.

Surgeries aplenty,
Performed upon his mass;
But nothing seemed to help him,
Each hundred pound he’d pass.

Next year he’s in contention
To win another prize;
The most in measured weight loss
By any set of thighs.

He’s done the best he’s able
To live with such a curse;
But when his days are over
I’d like to see his hearse.
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The dogs and cats are droppin’ fast,
Eatin’ food from poison cast.
  Cans and pouches they’ve recalled
The flag at PetSmart flies half-mast.

A hundred labels, high to low,
Brands unknown and brands you know.
  Menu Foods, the source of all
From A & P to Stop ‘n Go.

Sliced in gravy, tasty bits
Will stop a kidney when it hits.
  Lethargy and vacant eyes
Manifest in pups and kits.

It’s been a week since they’d first try
To isolate the reason why
  So many pets grew sick and then 
Account for why the pets would die.

A change in source of gluten bought
By Menu Foods is now what’s thought
  To be behind the tainted tins
And to all pets has danger brought.

Passing pets, they grow morose;
Another day, it’s adios.
    I see my dog and see the can
And wonder, ‘What’s a lethal dose?’  
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Twisted Tryst

A twist in a case
From a few weeks ago;
I’ll tell you about it
In case you don’t know.

Reported as follows
In the news of the day:
From work a man came 
And his wife was at play.

Interrupted was she
From her frolicking way,
Her companion and she
Discontinued their play.

The boy, just a student,
Ran toward his car,
But the man with a gun,
Assured that’s as far.

The infidel wife
Watched the boy being shot,
Then watched her dear husband
As arrested he got.

At first it appeared
It was simply blind rage
That enveloped the husband,
Thus setting the stage.

But a week or two later,
The wife’s with her kin
When she makes an attempt
To do herself in.

The cops are suspicious,
There’s something they’ve missed;
There’s more to the story
Then an afternoon tryst.

The wife and her spouse,
Different tales they tell;
But the wife clearly lies -
A kid’s ringin’ her bell!

They pound her down hard
With the questions and facts;
The evidence mounts
And against her it stacks.

Despondent she cracks,
The truths from her spill -
What she said to her husband
That sent him to kill.

When the husband came in
She’d been disarrayed;
Essentially naked
From the hours she’d played.

She screamed as the boy
Ran out toward drive,
“I’ve been raped and assaulted!
It’s with luck I’m alive!”

Believing her words
Would her husband placate,
Her words would instead
Seal the boy’s fate.

The child she’s slept with
She accuses of rape,
Then points to the place
That he’s made his escape!

This woman who cheated
And was caught in the act,
Would stoop even lower
To cover the fact!

Now the husband is thinking
A crime had occurred;
To the basest of instinct
His manner deferred.

Chasing the ‘rapist’
He ran through the door
And shot ‘til he killed
With shot number four.

Reflecting upon
These changes in facts,
The wife was arrested;
Any morals she lacks.

Now she’s the one jailed,
She’s charged with the crime,
And her husband’s released
He’ll be doin’ no time.

He defends a man’s kingdom
Avenging her cries;
Compelled to react
By his wife’s wily lies.

The Tarrant Grand Jury
Has declined to accuse
The husband of crimes,
And all charges excuse.

In Tarrant, a family
Has lost their dear son,
And a husband will live
With the killing he’s done.

No price is too high
For this woman to pay,
For her little white lie
And a roll in the hay. 
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For Their Own Benefit

Firefighters of New York
Produced a DVD
Dismissing Guiliani
As the hero thought to be.

Their union more precisely,
A political machine
That values every democrat
The union’s every seen. 

Contending it was Rudy
Who failed to provide
Equipment to the fighters
Who subsequently died.

That he abandoned efforts
To dig among the wrecked
Forever for the bodies
Thus showing no respect. 

Six years passed disaster
That no one could predict,
These sorry souls are whining
Intent to hurt inflict.

The city was on fire,
Thousands burned like wood;
Who knows if he’s a hero
But he did the best he could.

There’s certainty in some things,
The city healed repaired
Not because of union chiefs
But rather Rudy cared.
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Last Act

From the wings,
The curtain call,
Center stage
She’s standin’ tall.

The audience
Is on its feet
And with applause,
The actress meet.

The last hoorah,
Her final bow,
The curtain falls
To exit now.

From the lights,
Her name withdrawn;
The marquee dark
Before the dawn.

‘Remember when,’
They’ll come to say
‘Upon our stage
She came to play?’

A gentle soul
Of gentle grace;
In mem’ry held,
A gentle face. 
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The night is clear
The crickets sing
  The moon hangs high and still;
The twenty-ninth
Of August comes
  And memories from it spill.

A couple spoke
The wedding vow,
  Upon a stage were cast;
Though it seems
As yesterday,
  So many years have passed.

I’ve never met
A promise made
  That time did not undo;
A summer’s night
Within the still, 
  Remains the promise true.
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Blue Moon

On the eve of the New Year
We’ll be one year away
From a rising blue moon
That’ll be on display.

Uncommon occurrence
Each quarter decade,
Two-thousand and nine
It’ll be on parade.

In time universal
As a blue moon holds sway,
The heavens bow down
As the night slides away.

A night to cast wishes,
When wishes come true,
When a new year’s delivered
On a moon that is blue. 
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