Buried Minimum

Dust off your streak-keeping scruple and toss it,
Then lower the bar to the pavement and cross it.
Sometimes “the spirit” just gets in the way.
My streak’s been extended. I’m done for the day.

Streaks

I’m proud of my streaks
Which I’ve worked on for years
Even though my mom freaks
When she sees the broad smears
That I draw with my snot
On our windows and door
She says Bad dog! a lot
That’s what practice is for