Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.191.37.16

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

What gets me out of my art studio?
The urge to urinate, to eat, or to play word games.
I am a painter who wants to do nothing else during summer.
My husband can testify everything else is second choice.
Including him, but he does not mind.
He is also obsessive, and understands it well.
He should. We have been together for fifty-five years.

The dogs are in there with me, sleeping with great flatulence.
When a delivery man comes, they try to deliver to us.
Because they can see me; I am behind a glass wall in the back of my garage.
I shake my head “no” and point to the porch
While the dogs are barking as if they are going to tear him up.
I call my husband and tell him about the package.
If I don’t, the big puppy will get to it first and rip it to bits.

Oh, wait, and food.
Food will get me out of my studio.
Sweet foods like cinnamon rolls and cherry pie
And salty foods like potato chips.
My husband also makes me sweet beans with wieners.
I blame my flatulence on the dogs.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required