Monday, November 4, 2019

brain poem

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

as i was walking down the road
i thought i heard my head explode
my brain cells floated through the air
with all the world my thoughts to share

my plans to save the human race
my goal to have a prettier face
all my sad humiliations
and ideas far above my station

drifted on the summer breeze
and any travelers, if they pleased
could laugh at my entire existence
i had no answer or resistance

o wayfarer, tell me true
what if it happened to you?
i mean you no disservice or curse
but could anything be worse?

Thursday, October 10, 2019

my little dog

by major stafford sternwall

i had a little dog
but he could not climb a tree
he was not a cat or a frog
and all he wanted was to be free

i called him alexander
because he was not free from sin
but he thought the view was grander
from the window of the inn

he begged me please to change his name
to peter or to paul
i told him he had to play the game
or be the death of us all

i heard a knocking in the wall
and knew the hour had struck
and now await the bishop’s call
to hear him spout his modern muck

Monday, September 16, 2019

old times

by horace p sternwall

i remember the good old times
before i was covered with slime
and i was the president of the united states’s caddy
and all the women loved me madly

and i did just as i pleased
and sat beside the pool drinking daiquiris
and everybody was interested in my opinions
and when i wanted a prize, i would win one

stop - it seems to me
that i am mot engaging your sympathy
what is that you say?
that at least i had my day?

like every dog has its day?
put your martini back on the tray
stand up and challenge me like a human being
i can not believe what i am hearing and seeing

things were different then
cats were women and dogs were men
rain fell on the flowers and the road ran on
i was here and now i am gone

Sunday, August 18, 2019

a foggy day

by horace p sternwall

as i walking to london town
i met a hangman and a clown
the clown was dressed in somber style
the hangman wore a happy smile

i asked the hangman for a dime
he paused, and took his own sweet time
who are you, he cheerfully asked
that i should favor you with cash?

i am a creature, sad and forlorn
who never requested to be born
around my neck are no silk scarves
all i wish is not to starve

the hangman nodded and replied
you have opened my eyes wide
i will wipe the smile from off my face
and make the world a better place

with that the hangman disappeared
as the clouds above me leered
the clown and i were left alone
and he was looking at his phone

whatever he saw there did not seem
to wake him from his dolourous dream
i left him and went on my way
what was his fate, i can not say

on a foggy day in london town
a beggar put a payment down
on a castle beside an apple tree
o how i wish that it were me

the beggar, the castle, or the tree
i would be any of the three
the beggar sleeps within the walls
and from the tree an apple falls

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

house of horrors

by emily de villaincourt

it is a lovely day, isn’t it, beverly?”

“yes, it is, aunt mona. and it would be an even lovelier one if some kind gentleman were to come along and offer to marry me, and rescue me from this house of horrors.”

“house of horrors!” aunt mona laughed. “really, my dear, you are so dramatic at times!”

that evening at dinner, aunt mona reported beverly’s remark about living in a house of horrors, much to the amusement of the entire company, who kept repeating it with humorous variations right up until the gentlemen retired to the lounge.

what a treacherous old cow aunt mona is, beverly reflected.

she resolved never to trust another human being again.

Saturday, July 13, 2019


by horace p sternwall

a little man woke up at dawn
and put his orange jumpsuit on
there was nothing more to say
it was his execution day

he sat behind the door of steel
and waited for his final meal
he hoped to find it to his taste
and the cook’s hard work not go to waste

there was a book beside his bed
a book that he had never read
the book’s title, if you please
was “the man with excellent qualities”

he had received it from a friend
when he thought his life would never end
and every brand new day would bring
loves to laugh at, songs to sing

every day the road would roll
toward a sunset with no goal
a smile would beam on every face
and nothing he did would leave a trace

he would be free as a bird
that was an expression he had heard
how free was a bird, anyway?
it might be hard to say

some day he would rule the planet
and be so great he could hardly stand it
win some nobel prizes in his spare time
and throw every bum a brand new dime

but somehow that day never dawned
he never put his best suit on
he never married the farmer’s or the boss’s daughter
he never walked on water

to work at mcdonalds he was too proud
he fell in with a bad crowd
but the glory days of bad crowds had passed
and they were brought real low real fast

after the shootout on highway fifty-five
when only he was left alive
the little man stood before judge smith
and said, let’s get this over with

and now the day had dawned
that most people greeted with a yawn
but he tried to put on a smile
and go out in style

but nobody paid any attention
or thought his demeanor was worth a mention
down the corridor he was led
a bag was put over his head

here the tape ends
that is all, my friends
some day your connection will fail
so take heed of this sad tale

Wednesday, July 10, 2019

4 stories

a story

by bofa xesjum

it is the year ————

the universe is divided into two warring camps, the ———————— and the ———————

the ———————— have ———————— and are —————————

the ———————— have ———————— and are —————————

after over a thousand years of warfare, the ————————— are on the verge of a great breakthrough.

the capital of the ————————— empire, on its home planet of ———————, is in immediate danger.

——————————, a young ——————— in the ————————— army, receives a summons from the great ruler.

——————————, a young ——————— in the ————————— navy, receives a summons from the great ruler.

the young——————————— from the—————————— empire is sent on a last desperate mission.

the young ————————————from the ------ empire is charged by the great ruler with stopping the last desperate mission of the young ——————— from the ------- empire.

it has come to this.

where are the dreamers, the artists, the poets, the philosophers, the intrepid explorers , the architects of empire, the inventors, the transformers of reality?

where are they now?

it has come to this.

the rivals

by nick nelson

smith was just finishing his memorandum when he heard a rap on his office door.

who could it be? he wondered. the staff knew he was not be disturbed when he was composing his memorandum in the morning.

“yes, come in,” he called but before the words were out of his mouth jones burst in.

terrible news, sir, jones exclaimed breathlessly.

please close the door behind you, jones.

jones closed the door.

“what is it this time, jones?” smith asked.

“a ———— sir! a ———— is heading straight for the ——————— !”

“i rather doubt that,” smith replied in his trademark dry tone.

“but it is! it is!

you have always hated me, haven’t you, jones? and this is your last pathetic attempt to discredit me. well, i am having none of it. you are —————————

suddenly ———————————

a great ——————————————

it was over.

the dawn

by corinne delmonico

as pete and the child walked down the highway, the sound of the sirens in the burning town behind them began to fade away…

and the dawn began to come up.

“do you begin to understand now?” the child asked pete.

“i do,” pete answered. “i understand now. it is only through the party that anything will ever be accomplished. we are part of the problem or we are part of the solution.”

“and the party is the solution,” the child added. “the only solution”

the dawn came up.

the pink house

by fan taser

the pink house stood on the hill. nobody was ever seen going in or out of it.

when annabelle was a little girl, she walked past it every day on her way to school.

when she graduated from high school and got a job at the chicken farm, she drove past it every day on her way to work.

when she married henry and had the twins, she pushed the double stroller past it every day when she took the twins and the dog out for some fresh air.

she never saw anybody go in or out of the pink house, or any sign of life around it.

someday, she thought, i will go up and knock on the door and see if anybody is home.

Monday, July 8, 2019

brand new rope

by fan taser

jennifer called her mother, as she did every saturday at noon. she told her about robert’s proposal.

o honey, that is wonderful! that is the most wonderful news i have ever heard! i am so happy for you.

well, don’t get too excited. he just asked me, that’s all. i didn’t say yes.

not yet, you mean.

well, maybe not ever. i haven’t decided.

haven’t decided? are you serious ? what’s to decide? robert is a wonderful catch for any girl. i can just guarantee you you will never get a better one. just consider. he is

a) rich

b) rich

c) rich

d) a little bit famous

e) knows a lot of the right people

f) is good-looking and in good shape

g) dresses nice

h) is a gentleman

i) isn’t too old

j) went to harvard

k) seems to sort of respect women and

l) isn’t a slob, at last not in public. so what more do you want?

i don’t know. it just that he is… he is… you know…

no, i do not know. he is what?

he’s just… kind of an asshole.

and that’s a problem? as my dad used to say, some people will complain if they get hanged with a brand new rope. surely you are not serious about turning him down.

jennifer wished she had not made the call. well, she had to call, she called every saturday, she just wished she had not mentioned the proposal.

i don’t know, she said. let me think about it. i will talk to you next week.

don’t think about it too long. a guy like robert can find plenty of other girls.

and with that, jennifer’s mother began a long description of her sister peggy’s latest legal problems


a year later.

robert was long gone, and had married a woman five years older than himself, whom he had known for years, since she had been a bartender at a club he and his buddies had frequented when they were underage, when they were still in prep school.

jennifer’s mother had stopped talking about robert, but jennifer still felt kind of bad about letting her down, especially as her mother could have used some of robert’s money for legal and medical bills of her own.

and jennifer just felt kind of depressed in general, because life sucked.

suddenly, she had an idea. an idea for something that would at least break the monotony of her miserable existence.

she would go out in the street and ask the first man she saw if he would like to marry her. ha ha ha!

think i don’t know how to play the newlywed game? well, check this out, my friends!

well.. not absolutely the first guy she saw… not somebody old or smelly or a complete homeless bum … somebody you could at least walk down the street with without being stared at…

jennifer woke up the next day at her usual time, around two o’clock, and decided to put her plan into effect and not give herself the chance to get cold feet.


jennifer went down to the street and started walking toward the corner. there were people standing there, like they were waiting for the bus.

right away she saw a guy who might suit her purpose. not real real old, 28 or 29 maybe, dressed halfway like a slob but not homeless bum dirty. wearing a baseball cap, but it was straight on his head. not gym fit, but not fat either. he was not hideously ugly, but ordinary enough that he should be properly flattered by the attention of a female as fit and well conditioned as jennifer.


excuse me, jennifer addressed him, can i ask you a question?

sure. the man did not seen too surprised by jennifer’s talking to him, and was not quite as awed by jennifer’s person as he should have been.

would you like to marry me?

ha ha. he did not laugh, but spoke the words ha ha.

no, i am serious, jennifer told him.

any particular reason you are asking me?

i just decided i would go out today and ask the first man i saw to marry me. do you have a problem with that?

no, i think it’s very impressively aggressive. too many people today don’t know what they really want.

so you will do it? you will marry me?

well, uh, will you expect me to support you?

oh no, nothing like that. i have my own money.

how nice. then i guess it’s a go, what is your name, by the way?

jennifer smith.

my name is brandon jones.

jennifer offered brandon her hand and he took it and shook it, not too hard but not limp either.

an older man and an older woman, standing apart from each other, were also waiting for the bus. neither gave any sign that they were listening to jennifer’s and brandon’ s curious conversation, or found it particularly interesting if they were.

so, brandon asked, when do we put this great plan into effect?

as soon as you like. do you know where we can get married? do we have to go to vegas or foxwoods or someplace like that?

no, i have a friend who has a license to marry people. he got one of those preacher certificates in the mail. he can do the job, totally legal.

ha ha, you sound like you have done this before.

i might have, brandon answered wth a trace of a smile. i can call him right now, if you want. he’s a guy that doesn’t have a lot to do , i should be able to get hold of him.

that sounds great.

by the way, do i get a honeymoon out of this?”

why, of course. what’s a marriage without a honeymoon? do you have anyplace in mind?

as a matter of fact, i do. i have a little place of my own upstate. nothing fancy, but it’s private. nice and quiet.

how convenient. i say, we go as soon as your friend marries us.

if that suits you.

i will go home and get packed, and we can meet somewhere. you can get hold of your preacher friend.

all right. brandon pointed across the street, to a burger king. how about if we meet there, at five o’clock?

that is perfect.

any questions? brandon asked. until we meet again?

um - are you a nice guy?

nice enough. i am not a terrorist or a serial killer.

i am glad to hear it. jennifer smiled at brandon, and turned and started back to her apartment.

the bus came, and the man and woman who had apparently paid no attention to the conversation, got on it, leaving brandon to his thoughts.

brandon had thought the whole thing was probably some kind of jimmy kimmel man in the street joke, and he would find a camera and a microphone in his face, but if it was, would it not have happened by now?

maybe the girl, jennifer, was serious. it would not hurt to show up and find out. brandon did not really have “a friend” waiting at a moment’s notice to marry them, but he had a couple of numbers he could call for that purpose if he had to.

and he did have a place upstate, a cabin way back in the hills. brandon had only been telling jennifer half the truth when he told her he was not a terrorist or a serial killer. he did not belong to any terrorist organization or any kind of organization, but he was a serial killer. one who prided himself on picking up halfway hot and innocent young women, not just hookers.

he usually spent some time stalking them and setting them up, carefully getting them to trust him, trying to make sure they did not know his real name and such, or that he could be traced by their friends, if they had any.

this was too good to be true. that was the problem.

it was too easy. the fun was in the challenge. this was no fun.

some people will complain if they get hanged with a brand new rope.

Monday, June 24, 2019

bonus story 2

donald trump read the ten thousandth online entry - that day! - cursing him and hating him, and he began to cry.

that’s it, he thought, i can’t take it any more. forget retiring to a monastery, because there probably is not a monastery in the world that will take me. i will just have to hang myself.

he took a rope out of his desk and headed out to the back yard of the white house where there was a tree suitable for his purpose.

but when he reached the tree, who should he find waiting for him but st peter.

look here, don, st peter got right down to business, it is your decision as to what you wish to do. but before you go through with it, i have some fellows and a couple of gals here who have a few things to say to you. first off, let me introduce sir isaac newton and professor albert einstein, who will explain to you how the universe works.

professor einstein stepped forward, brandishing his beloved pipe. you understand, don, he began, that there are seven basic elements in the universe.

if you say so, professor, donald said. i hope you don’t expect me to remember all of them.

ha ha. no, the only one that concerns us here is the seventh and strongest one - the one that threatens to overwhelm al the others snd destroy the universe. i refer, of course, to hatred. are you with me so far?

i guess, donald replied. i know all about hatred.

but what you may not know, einstein said, is that hatred inexorably builds up over the years and centuries, and with the huge increase in human population over the last few centuries -

and humans are the largest producers of hatred, sir isaac newton interjected, with no one, not even scorpions or sharks or stonefish producing so much hatred per cubic ounce.

hatred can not be dissipated, einstein resumed, but its effects on the wider universe can be limited if it focused on a few individuals. that is where you come in.

donald nodded. i think i begin to understand.

st peter stepped forward again. i said i had some guys and a few gals for you to meet, don, and here they are.

donald looked up and beheld hitler, stalin, mao zedong, richard nixon, genghis khan, attila the hun, pontius pilate, salome, marie antoinette, and margaret thatcher.

stalin stepped forward and grasped donald’s hand. i just want to say, donald, how proud we all are of you , and what a great job you are doing under conditions none of us could have dreamed of.

thats right, brother, hitler added. i thought i had it rough - but what did i have to put up with, just hatred from countries i was running over! nothing from my own country, until a little bit at the end!

and in our day, margaret thatcher put in, all we had was television and the gutter press - every little jackanapes in the street didn’t have an organ of propaganda and hatred in his pocket that he could beam from 24 hours a day!

i used to cry myself to sleep every night, said marie antoinette, and all i had to put up with was pamphlets - hand-printed pamphlets!

i think i can speak for all of us, genghis khan said, when i say the job gets tougher all the time and you are the greatest of them all.

three cheers! shouted salome. three cheers for the donald!

think you can carry on, big fella? richard nixon asked when the cheers had subsided. you have shown you can handle it. we don’t know if anyone else can.

i - i’ll do it, donald managed to choke out. i - i’ll do everything i can to show you guys your faith in me is not misplaced.

st peter simply said, thank you, and they all disappeared .

donald was left alone on the white house lawn with the rope he had been going to hang himself with.

he wandered back into the white house.

whew, he thought, that was emotionally draining. i need some sustenance.

he called mcdonalds and ordered three bacon egg and cheese mcgriddles, three orders of hash browns, and a mango pineapple smoothie and a strawberry banana smoothie.

then he called dunkin and ordered a dozen glazed donuts.

Thursday, June 20, 2019

bonus story

donald trump woke up.

he had had a strange dream, which caused him to question his whole existence.

what a miserable slacker i have been, he thought, and what a shoddy job i have done in my capacity of emperor of the world.

ever since the magic ruby fell from the sky and landed in my pocket, giving me the power of life and death over all living creatures on this earth, all i have used it for is to sow hatred and discord, racism and misogyny and tribalism and capitalism and war and paranoia and unhealthy life styles.

i will turn the magic ruby over to some more worthy owner, somebody like ms jennifer collins of london ontario, or ms gloria jones of durban south africa, so that she may use it to make a world a better place, a happy land of peace, plenty, fairness, and diversity, and rid of oppression, alienation, aggression, poverty, pollution, cholesterol, injustice and inequality.

i myself will then retire to a monastery in the syrian desert, or hang myself.

i will do this, donald thought, after i have my breakfast.

he then ordered his usual breakfast of two sausage and egg mcmuffins with hash browns and a chocolate shake.

but just as donald was putting the first mcmuffin into his mouth, bernard moreau, of kaiserslautern germany, woke up.

bernard had had a strange dream, which gave him confidence that someday he would conquer the world, or at least find a nice girl who would be his slave.

he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but gave up after fifteen minutes and got up and got dressed and had a cup of coffee and went to work.