Friday, April 19, 2024

jastro - a fragment

by eleanor rapunzel

people are bad, they should be good
this is widely understood
and yet as we turn history’s pages
we find no records of golden ages

jastro the fifteenth, emoeror of b————
built a fleet, and put to sea
he sailed through wind and rain and thunder
for unsuspecting worlds to plunder

it came across a distant isle
whose natives, innocent of guile
displayed their unselfconscious charms
and welcomed the fleet with open arms

the natives were quickly disabused
what they had, they had to lose
and as night settled on the waves
they were marched into the ships as slaves

jastro’s bosom swelled with pride
lust was his soul, and greed his guide
he continued on his evil way
as his successors do today


could we but find a ray of hope
as we dangle from a fraying rope
might we ask, what can we learn
from history, as the planet burns

Thursday, April 18, 2024

the sky

by doreen wetherby

the sky is smiling at me

why is the sky smiling at me?

why do i think the sky is smiling at me?

the sky is smiling at me

the white clouds are smiling at me

if they turn dark they will still be smiling at me

maybe it will rain

i hope it will rain

i like the rain

why do i like the rain?

because i just do

and i am me

Wednesday, April 17, 2024


by christopher collingwood

i woke up this morning with a feeling of dismay
it was just another day
i brushed my teeth and put on my shoes
and went outside to pay my dues

the bus came by five minutes late
with destiny i had a date
my space awaited me
but all i wanted was to be free

are you free? or are you like me?
why can people not see
the world needs to be rearranged
but somehow this idea seems strange

to the folks filing by
without a tear in their eye
or a frown on their face
o doomed human race!

i put aside these gloomy thoughts
and joined the other bots
in the flowing stream
of this endless dream

maybe this is the day
where i find my way
but now it is time to crunch
i hope i have time for lunch

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

on the job

by betty jones

i had a strange dream last night
but i forgot it
as soon as i woke up

because i have a job interview
the fourth of sixteen
for this particular job

which i hate already
even though i probably will not get it
and then

i will hate it even more
you know how it is
or maybe you do not

maybe you are a dog
or a rat
or a cloud in the sky

or a comic book
in a comic book store
that no one will ever buy

or a cheeseburger
waiting to be heated up
at burger king

so somebody will eat
half of it
but finish their fries

as they look out
the window of the burger king
at the people passing

by on their way
to thousands (millions?)
of job interviews

i wish i was
any of those things
or anything at all except

the people going
to the job interviews
like me

i already am that
well that is all
for now

i have to get dressed
and get going
you know how it is

Monday, April 15, 2024


by albert emwortn

grass grew on the planet

a flower opened in the air

a rabbit ran over a rock

a mountain loomed on the horizon

rain fell from the sky

a pool formed on the ground

a stream flowed from the pool

the sea waited for the stream

the sun went down

night fell on the sea

a cloud covered the moon

a bird flew across the sand

a bug crawled through the grass

the grass let the bug pass

the bug passed the flower

a cat prowled

a wolf howled

or maybe it was a coyote

or an old yellow dog

or just a hound

at last

in the grass

behind the sand

under the hidden moon

sixteen poets

k___ felt fortunate to obtain their position as an unpaid intern in the cultural affairs office of the empress, but was surprised to discover how small the office was.

small, that is, as far as being staffed. the physical office itself was spacious, airy, and comfortable, with large windows providing a splendid panoramic view of the much maligned capital, which from a height of fifty-two stories looked quite civilized.

besides k____, the staff consisted of the director, the elderly baroness b——————, who , k____ was told, only showed up at the office every three months, as she was in the habit of doing so from the days when she received her quarterly salary by check, although of course that was no longer necessary. k____ could look forward to being taken to lunch by the baroness on these occasions.

k____ was also told that their direct predecessor had had a secretary, to type letters and open the mail, but that this position, for obvious reasons, had been eliminated.

instructions for such duties as k____ might have to perform would be communicated to them on their personal phone, either by the baroness or by the baroness’s direct superior, the minister of the interior or one of his minions.

for the first ten days of their employment, k— had nothing to do, and no one to check on them to see if they were doing it. nobody said anything to them about “working from home” and they had no desire to spend the days in their little apartment , so they happily showed up at the office, where they read the novels of elizabeth gaskell and george sand, and in the mornings, pondered what to have for lunch.

it had been decided to appoint a poet laureate of the empire, and k____ was instructed to draw up a list of sixteen diverse candidates from which the empress would choose one.

happy to justify their existence at last, k___ fell to their task and after two days of intensive research on theirphone came up with the following list:


alexander gray writes poems about poetry , about what it means to be a poet, and poems about other, mostly famous, poets

betty jones writes poems about herself, about her life and her interactions with other people

christopher collingwood writes poems about his day to day life

doreen weatherby writes poems about nature - the sky, trees, flowers, sun, moon, etc

eleanor rapunzel writes poems about the cruelty and injustice of human life

robin hood writes poems about the cruelty and injustice of all life

george willoughby writes poems that rhyme

henry brown junior selects words randomly from an unabridged dictionary and pastes them together to form poems

albert emworth writes poems with as few words as possible

jennifer robinson lodge writes haiku, always in the 5 - 7 - 5 syllable pattern

kate j smith writes poems, mostly rhymed, about her children and grandchildren

lily marsh godfrey writes poems about being a woman

laurel abercrombie writes poems about her family tree, stretching back centuries

nancy dark writes poems abut being herself

oliver walker iii writes poems celebrating american history and christian family values

paul bunyan is writing an epic poem about the history of the universe and the human race

rather pleased with the. results and with theirself, k___ sent the list to the empress’s representative.

the reaction was swift.

Sunday, April 14, 2024

a billion dollars

by nick nelson

early in the morning
just about the break of day
i’ll take a billion dollars out of the bank
and be on my way

i will head or the interstate
and stick out my thumb
with a billion dollars in my pocket
i will be a happy bum

a pretty girl will pick me up
a redhead or a blonde
she’ll ask, where you headed, buddy?
i will say, to hell and beyond

she will laugh appreciatively
with teeth so pearly white
she’ll say, don’’t worry big boy
i will get you there tonight

we will head on own the highway
in the wind and sun and rain
i have had this dream a million times
and am having it again

she will say, we have to make a stop
to pick my brother up
you may be in a hurry
but deal with it, buttercup

at a deserted crossroads
a filling station looms
no light is lit within it
in the rain and in the gloom

suddenly it hits me
like a ton of gold bricks
the blonde, the brother, and the night -
i am hip to all their tricks

my billion dollars will not save me
nor will the picture of my dog
i wish i was in monte carlo
or sleeping in a hollow log

i have had this dream a million times
because my heart is true
everybody has their dream
how about you?