Eating jambalaya with a fork,
nobody fed the dog.
I wished it were already Friday,
my shoes feel a bit tight.
You’d think I would’ve learned something in school.
How about a back rub?

Somewhere out there a guy has a flat
tired of being used as a guinea pig,
the clock ticks away,
but ours is a sizable some!

In winter the snow reaches up to my
assumption that the grass is always greener.

Can I offer you a drink?
Pass the crushed pepper flakes.

© Walter J. Wojtanik

Poetic Asides – Descort Poetic Form


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