Equi- from equal, and nox as in hard:
A coin on its edge between dark and unstarred
(And please, hold the rant on how our star’s the Sun–
There aren’t enough hours, now autumn’s begun).
Relentless reminder we’re slightly more old
With each pumpkin spice latte (with cinnamon) sold,
We’ve started the plunge from the top of the tall
Summer tower toward winter’s cold sidewalk.
Some Saturdays are days of rest,
Slow-paced and lazy, Bacchus-blessed
And unproductively okay.
Today was not that kind of day.
If every sleep’s a tiny death
And likewise every wake a birth,
Last night a clutch of pups drew breath
In turn, then quickly left this earth.
(One’s mewling yet, for what it’s worth.)
If you’re a girl and you’re a teen
Here’s what we know: You’re shallow, mean,
And vain, a scheming sex machine
Who dresses so she knows she’s seen
As wantin’ boys of 17.
At 17 a boy’s a crass
Hormonal mess obsessed with ass,
Experiments with booze and grass
And rape, on which he gets a pass
If white, and of a certain class.
While boys are being boys, a girl
Will probably give sex a whirl,
All her budding wiles unfurl
Upon a boy who’d be a churl
If he chose not to grope the girl!
Did I say “girl”? I meant the chick,
The twat, the tramp, the tease de prick,
Reluctant sucker of the dick
Of teen lotharios too slick
To ever hear a cell door click.
Mistakes at seventeen, alas,
Might ruin girls, but boys are green.
Attempted rape’s like passing gas:
It stinks at first, but odors fade.
Don’t judge. The crime’s not getting laid!
Mass shootings happen all the time
Without a reason, but with rhyme:
For thoughts and prayers and guns, demand
Will spike, but changes won’t be planned.
Still, best be safe: Shore up your stock
Of weaponry in case the shock
Of this one causes such regret
That we’ll do what we haven’t yet,
By which I mean, a single thing…
I kid! We won’t. Let freedom ring.
Early’s a waste
And it’s rude to be tardy.
It’s 7 P.M. on the dot.
Where’s the party?
I touched a lot of things today
And most of them just went away
While only some of them returned
(That’s after my glass brownies burned).
This Chromebook was the last to go
(Turns out I had a backup, though)
So maybe I should call it quits
On that non-low note in case it’s