A Year’s Supply, At Least

Sitting on the exam table, the paper crinkles underneath Gretchen’s legs. She inhales through her nose and tilts her head to the ceiling and tries to make the ceiling interesting while waiting for the doc. At the first twitch in her neck, she rolls her head down and starts to massage her numerous aches—first neck, then back. Any day now, lady. She glances at her white Nurse Mates watch; the second hand barely moves.

The doc breezes in through the door; she is wearing a lab coat and stethoscope and a don’t-bother-me-I’m-working look. “Gretchen, nice to see you again. I heard you’ve had a few symptoms lately? Your CBC and chemistry are all normal. Your vital signs are text book. Tell me what’s going on?” Continue reading

Monorhymes Can Incite Crimes

Monorhymes can sometimes suck;

They get wrapped up in one-sound, stuck.

Aim at the writer; throw a puck

And keep your mouth shut; don’t yell “duck!”

Unless you’re more of a hardcore smuck,

Then drive right near them in your fancy truck,

Hold down the gas through the puddle muck

Until it splatters, covers, yuck!

Was that your friend? You must have pluck.

Or taking chances on a thing called luck.


The Long-Distance Run

via Daily Prompt: Immerse


The rhythm of life is a long-distance run,

Each step conveys movement with time, no suspension.

One or another chooses goal once begun.

With true hope one is paying attention

To the songs and the smells and rivers’ winding maps,

Vibrant streaks in the sky, the rain clouds’ contention.

But a twist, a knot, a notion of collapse

Invincibility exists, but in alternate places

Life mirrors the race, changes pace, perhaps.

But given trails and roads, brightly tied laces,

And the ever ticking clock can’t be undone,

Open eyes, immersed in miles, beside precious loving faces.