Today you'll find here a double post: first, a poem for MZ's fine challenge, and then something special after that!
"Too Late My Hope Rewarded"
I hoped you would!
You never said
"I love you."
Even in illness,
at the end--
you never said
"I love you."
Now, this night,
you're at my door--
never the same--
One eye gone,
missing an arm,
you bang on my door,
groaning, "Aw rawv goo!"
Fifty words exactly for MZ's Words Count challenge to be a "Poe-et"!
And now, a special guest hostess!
Hello, Lambs! It's me, Babs St. Argent, from the Objets D'art blog! Fireblossom is busy right now; I think she said something about having Joel Osteen tied to a weed whacker or something. The girl makes no sense at all.
But never mind! I brought this morning's Pompano Beach Enquirer with me, which means that we can sit down together and read my favorite advice columnist: "Dear Daphne"!
Just throw away that tiresome news section and the pointless sports page. Here she is! Right on page 3C, between the Sudoku and the a recipe for vegetarian pot roast! Let's read!
My husband and I live in a nice suburban area, but we are having a problem with our next-door neighbors. They own two large bison, which they keep as pets. One afternoon as I was out in the back yard, trimming the pansies with fingernail scissors, one of the bison smashed through the fence and dropped a huge pie right on my petunia bed.
My neighbors didn't seem to be at home, so I tried speaking in a friendly voice to the bison, but the other bison came through the gap in the fence and they began noisily copulating! So, I tried a stern tone of voice, but they just finished their disgusting behavior and then ate my pampas grass. My husband came out of the house and informed them that their behavior was unacceptable. Do you know what they did? They head-butted him through the glass wall of our patio and right through the back of an Adirondack chair we got from L.L. Bean!
I went straight over to our neighbors' house and left a note on their door, complaining about their rambunctious pets. Our city has an ordinance against eating anyone's pampas grass or going to the bathroom on their petunias, and I let them know it! My husband and I can't help but notice their poor stewardship of their pet bison.
What else can we do? It's really annoying.
PS--the wife is some kind of wild Indian.
Pooped On In The Suburbs
Nothing arouses my ire quite like poorly stewarded bison! I truly sympathize with your predicament. I'm afraid, however, that your options are rather limited.
You astutely noted that your neighbor is some sort of wild Indian; is it possible that you live adjacent to Indian land? Indian tribes have retained sovereignty over their land "as long as there is grass to smoke" or some such nonsense. Perfectly reasonable white ordinances against defecating on petunias may not apply.
Still, don't despair. I see no reason why the matter can't be negotiated with firmness and Anglo-axon integrity. Simply invite your neighbors over for a night of Indian tacos and bingo. Then, break out a piece of pipe. Or, is that peace pipe? One forgets...
"Dear Daphne" answers are written by M. Zen, senior staff writer at Baby Puppy Productions. "Dear Daphne" appears in some two hundred publications nationwide, including The Kiwanis Kink Newsletter, The St. Paul Free Shoplifter, and Compost Industry Tattler.
Ms. Zen is also the author of a number of books, among them the "Pirates Of Finland" romance trilogy, the non-fiction bestseller "Fuck! I Just Missed That Stupid Squirrel!" and "What The Bible Says About Sinks And Faucets", the latest in her wildly successful Jesus, Who's Going To Fix This? series.
In addition, Ms. Zen hosts the popular radio call in program What Is it This Time? on KUD AM "your farm report leader!" as well as playing the role of Pollyanna Bichwell in the long-running play Using My Spidey Powers To Find Your Fucking Shave Cream. Write to her at post office box 32, Pompano Beach FL.