bud

by jack dale coody

bud was just a guy he walked because he couldn’t fly scratched his head from time to time never had a lousy dime no one ever noticed him he was neither fat nor slim he might perhaps have gained some weight but to eat each day was not his fate a member of the human hive he never worked from nine to five he walked beneath skies gray and blue and to no cause was ever true no one ever asked his thoughts he may have had some, maybe not but knew his share of sneers and scorn like every human ever born in all his days and all his nights no one ever thought to write down anything he did or said he lived awhile, and now he’s dead

pterodactyl

by corrine delmonico

illustrations by jacqueline lemot

this is national poetry month and you don’t even care but i have a little poem which i would like to share people are bad most of the time won’t throw you a nickel or a lousy dime if they see you starving in the steeet they will use you to wipe their feet o humans if you only knew that everybody is just like you lost in the cosmos so mysterious you would not take yourselves so serious and as you stumble through life’s fogs give a thought to cats and dogs lizards, frogs, and all creatures who, if you look, have much to teach us the universe around us spins a merry-go-round of crimes and sins but watch out for those trillions of eyes who see right through your sad disguise