Three More From the Attic

I remember how a good friend of mine was thoroughly perplexed as to why I decided to alter what could have been a perfectly sappy short poem into a borderline-cynical ode to office supplies and glue. I guess I just have thing for office supplies...

I’m busy

Papers stacked a mile high,
Goodness gracious they're touching the sky.
oh my, oh my the white out is dry.
Pens galore and,
Books a million score.
Staplers here.
Sharpeners there.
Erasers and Highlighters too
...but if only, if only I could get a glance, a call, a whisper or two
Never does a moment pass without thinking of glue.

I don't have much to say about this one. I believe this was pre-Eliot-Enlightment and also pre-Patrick-has-lost-the-desire-to-rhyme.


The Waiting Room

tapping my foot to the rhythm of the second hand
sitting here half drowned in bated breath
hoping for each minute to pass faster
done all there is to do
skimmed last month's magazines,
a dozen times through.

at the cuff of the seat
waiting to hear my name
"pa...
...tricia"
or so i could only wish
the road trip syndrome setting in
are we there yet?
are we there yet?
bouncing around in my head.

good news—bad news
better than no news
i need advice,
and that's a fact!

"the doctor is always on time"
they say.
"He's the best in town"
said lula may.

i wish so; He would not tarry
read His book
till the edges were hairy

mending hearts is His practice,
saving souls from the great abyss.
He sure is one, I dare not miss.

so this is the story of the waiting room,
the bride a waiting for her groom.

This one is a modified and exaggerated dialogue that I always wished would be turned into a comic.

“I needed to make a statement.

A statement that would say,
‘Down with Pseudo-Democracy and Presidential Puppetry!
I’m the new leader of the free-freaking-world,
and I love Halfway Communism and Ruthless Military Tyrants!’”

“Let me get this straight. You wanted to make a passionate, persuasive statement, for the entire world to see—”

“Uh huh.”

“So you set fire to the school cafeteria…”

“Precisely!”

“For Pete’s sake, the lunch ladies are mourning of their now smoldering humble abode, not to mention, their ten year’s supply of plastic spatulas and hairnets.”

“Remember the great words of Mr. Jefferson. ‘The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.’”