Slippery
Love is a fish.
So tasty fresh and raw.
It slips out of my grasp
when I try to hold on.
So stinky when it dies.
Everyone knows I should let go.
Except me.
Facebook Love
So many men who friended me,
declared their adoration,
even though my profile
stated married, and my picture
showed me with my husband.
They claimed to be a doctor
or a general in the Army.
They hadn’t been on Facebook
long, their profiles were quite - slim.
Perhaps they searched for lonely
hearts to take them for their cash.
They couldn’t wait to call me dear,
which made me quite suspicious.
I blocked them and left Facebook,
broken-hearted. Not.
I may be none the wiser,
but I am none the poorer.
What I Wanted to Say
I wanted to tell you –
just a minute.
The dog is pooping in the kitchen.
It’s really goopy poop.
Not good.
I wanted to tell you –
just a minute.
Better get out the Pepto.
That pink stuff on the shelf.
Can you get the bottle?
I wanted to tell you –
just a minute.
Catch her before she
dribbles pink through the house.
What? She’s throwing up?
I wanted to tell you –
just a minute.
Yes, I’ll clean it up before you barf.
Isn’t this delightful?
Marriage is made of moments like this.
Zingered
Cupid’s bow has lost its zing.
His arrows cannot launch
to penetrate and sicken those
the gods determined
should be lost in love.
Heartstrings are back-ordered.
Workers are on strike.
Amazon cannot deliver.
Cupid can’t send email arrows
until the upgrade
to Windows 11.
I love how you combine love with the mundane in comical ways.
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