“The madness goes on your lap”

Script Frenzy starts today! No, wait,
It ends today. We’re kinda late,
Again, but that’s our usual
Condition, ’cause our plates are full.
My daughter and I run around
Until the clock is counting down
The final minutes to the end…
And that’s the time we’ve just beginned!
This year, we tried to keep it neat
And tidy, give ourselves a treat
By writing just two characters.
There’s Cedric (mine) and Maida (hers),
And both of them are sure that they
Are in the place they’re s’posed to stay
Because they pay the rent and such…
The premise doesn’t matter much,
In fact, because the length is key:
A hundred pages means we’ll be
Included on the Frenzy’s list
Of playwrights whom the Muses kissed
And blessed with sweet completion’s song…
Although, in our case, they were wrong
Because three hours is too short
To write so much. Our last resort
Was copying our one scene (one!)
To Google Translate, where, for fun,
And on the flimsiest of plot
Devices, we transformed the lot
From English to Italian,
And then from English once again
To Catalan, and finally
Back into English, which, you’ll see,
Beginning on page 88
Takes oddly dumb to freakin’ great!
It isn’t good, but it was fun,
And we’ll still both pretend we won!


Hubristic poet, wracked with angst,
Yanks hair by fistfuls from his scalp
And guzzles soda like a burp’ll
Make him magically a more in-
Genious rhyming whiz, but thanks
To too much caffeine, his heart palp-
Itates erratically as, purple-
Faced, he cries, “What rhymes with orange?!?”

Thought Experiment

Here’s the premise: Dogs wear hats.
Does that affect their views on cats?
Would perros con sombreros still
Be Sluggo to cats’ Mr. Bill?
Or would les chiens dans les chapeaux
Relax and let their cattacks go?

The answer, I suppose, would seem
To hinge on canine self-esteem:
If dogs are “ruff” on cats because
They’re envious, I’d say it does
Seem plausible that dressing up
Would make a much more mellow pup.

If pit bulls fitted with fedoras
Look on cats like Lukes on Lauras
In that eighties daytime soap,
The prospect fills my heart with hope
Republicans and Democrats
Might someday shed their Harpy Hats.

Let’s do it! Slap a lid atop
A dog, and make the madness stop!
Worst case, the tricked-out pup’s still mean:
At least we all could say we’d seen
Some cani in capelli chew
On gatti. I’d take that. Would you?

Inscription in a Book Given for No Particular Reason on the 24th of April

As William Shakespeare liked to say,
“When is my birthday? Yesterday?
I don’t remember eating cake.
When was I born, for heaven’s sake?!?”
It might have been the twenty-third
Of April, which would be absurd
‘Cause that’s the day he also died–
He couldn’t have planned that if he’d tried,
Because, as we’ve already seen,
He didn’t dig the birthday scene,
Perhaps because he never knew
Just when he’d joined the world. Who
Can say how that distressing fact
Informed the plays that we now act?
To be, or not to be, was not
In question–when’s what he forgot.

Not much of this has aught to do
With giving this new book to you,
Except that, maybe, it’s a gift
That balances the shortened shrift
That Willie must have got each year
Because he had no birthday.