The Furry Observer

My clothes laid out, nicely,
Neatly and precisely,
What I’m planning,
On wearing tomorrow.
I leave the room, briefly.
Unaware that discretely,
From a hair covered chair,
I’m observed.
Then looking innocently,
At me nonchalantly,
Lies the furry observer,
On my clothes.

Slow and Civilized

We needn’t be in a big hurry, I said.
So let’s take a trip by train instead.
Off we’ll go, at a reasonable pace.
We’ll be on vacation, not in a race.
Let’s paint pictures and drink wine.
Enjoy the scenery, take our time.
We’ll travel in a more civilized way,
Though not so often done today.
Would’ve been described by Jane Austen.
Had trains been invented way back then.

Shiny Music

I like my music a little rough.
I want it to have texture.
It should scratch my skin,
Cut me to the bone,
Devastate me, destroy me.
Illuminate me and get me off.
Good music is like good sex,
Touching me in private places.
Coming in ecstatic spurts of brilliance.

Now, the Eurovision Song Contest,
Is mostly unheard of in America.
But it’s massive in Europe.
Bigger than the Academy Awards,
And the Superbowl, combined.
One might assume that,
The purpose of such a contest,
Is to celebrate greatness, but no.
It’s actually a festival of mediocrity.

Of songs designed and manufactured,
By a whole teams of song writers.
Who style and blow dry and polish them,
Until every bit of roughness is buffed off.
Then they package them,
Wrap them up in plastic,
Till they’re nice and shiny.
And dangle them in front the,
Lowest Common Goldfish.

My love for you is parabolic

Here’s a card I designed and painted for my boyfriend for Valentine’s Day. It’s not perfect but I did draw and paint it by hand. The caption reads, “Have a mathematically precise Valentine’s Day.”

Happy Bacon Day

I don’t really care for mushy Valentine’s Day greeting card poetry, so here’s something completely different:

Roses are red.
Bacon tastes good.
Poetry is hard.
Bacon.

(Unfortunately, I cannot take credit for this.)

Head Space

I just realized I no longer
Think in the present tense.
Only space in my head, these days.
My mind is not here right now
But please leave a message.
I’ll get back to you tomorrow
Or next week.
Or wherever my brain is.
All my thoughts are there.
Like my mind is always
One Delorean ride ahead.
And I’ll never catch up with it.

Dromedary Quite Contrary

I saw a dromedary,
On the first of February.
A contrary dromedary,
On the first of February.
And this very dromedary,
A quite wary dromedary,
Was outside of the library,
On the first of February.