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  1. Yes, I Love Big, Boring Books

    Yes, I Love Big, Boring Books

    I'm a contrarian
    by nature and by heart:
    of the dumb and the smart.
    So, you say that "Moby-Dick
    goes dully on and on"?
    And Dickens' *yawn* Pickwick
    Papers a marathon
    of tedium and woe?
    For me such dullard cries
    bestow a golden glow
    of heavy levity
    upon those boring books
    of noted gravity.
    Of Kindels, texts or Nooks --
    I am ...

    Updated 05-01-2011 at 08:53 PM by The Comedian

  2. Song of a New Potty

    So our old pot,
    It rocked a lot:
    When you had to "go",
    It swayed to and fro.
    Both the bowl and basin
    Did much water wastin'.
    A miserable crapper
    With a broken flapper!

    "Enough!" I said.
    So off I sped
    To the big box store.
    Hoses, pipes and more
    They had in great supply.
    And potties! I had to try
    To pick one with the perfect flush.
    But I was in such a rush!
  3. Into The Open Sky

    Into the Open Sky

    Our autumn leaves descend --
    Poplar, sugar maple,
    Oak, and black cherry --
    The colored-side face down.

    Pines half-participate --
    They shed (like deer in spring)
    Their summer-gathering
    Interior needles.

    I love them, these old pines:
    Their autumn molting time,
    Their winter sun diets,
    Their shedding summer fluff.

    I rake them this morning--
    The turned leaves ...

    Updated 10-19-2010 at 01:28 PM by The Comedian (Thoughtful reader feedback)

  4. Transparency

    This poem was written for the Picture Poetry Contest. It is a response to this image:


    The sun behind the stones,
    The people in the crag,
    His hands in his pockets,
    Her hands behind her gown.

    We hide what we can see:
    These people, the earth, and me.

    The sun behind the clouds,
    The rain ...
  5. Fickle is Fancy

    This poem was originally posted in the Picture Poetry Contest.

    Will you continue to look at me, please?
    Fair skin, dark hair, black circles, white sclera:
    You're a pose of contrasts. Metallic blue
    Feathers reflected under mascara.

    They airbrushed you. Can't you see? No face is
    That white, that unblemished, that de-veined.
    You're a Wal-Mart shrimp frozen from the farm.
    Bloodless and raised in a seine to be seined.

    Updated 05-07-2010 at 11:58 AM by The Comedian

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