My Missy girl thinks she’s a boy;
she lifts her leg on plants to pee,
a fact that would my wife annoy
except for dog anatomy.
She sights it in and takes her aim:
persistence, not a thing she lacks.
Results, though, ever are the same;
her line of fire: straight out the back.
There's possibly a lesson here,
Though one I will not stretch too far:
No matter what the world may see,
Some things you aren't, some things you are.
oops, misfire!
hello, goodbye
spark fails
to start a flame
strangers bored to death
nothing in...
common;
they can't wait
to flee
each other.
this blind date,
disastrous mistake;
X yapping, Y looks at...
watch;
incompatible!
(Yalto)
"Yalto" is a form invented by yours truly
Lines 1-15: 3,4,2,4,5,3,2,3,2,3,3,5,6,1,5 syllables
Date: 01/16/2021
S-uccess
A-fter
M-isfire
A-ims
N-ow
T-o
H-ave
A-pparent
C-atch
A-s
H-ope
U-ses
T-riumph
A-round
Y-ou
Topic: Birthday of Samantha Cahutay (October 10)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Once I was considered a real flat tire
Now I'm full of air and my tire's on fire
Rolling down life's highway
Laughing, making hay
But at 82, I occasionally still misfire
Once I was considered a real flat tire
Now I'm full of air and my tire's on fire
Rolling down life's highway
Laughing, making hay
But at 82, I occasionally still misfire
Though often called by lovers
for my wicked deadly aim
when I sight with an arrow
and I chant the whispered name.
Sometimes, the shot gets tangled.
I don’t like to ricochet
off candidates unlikely
of responsiveness in play.
I’m sorry though... for Mary.
Me feeling hung-over dues...
‘twas cause of the misfire flight,
mispronouncing in the muse.
I targeted her chosen,
and fired a moment too late...
Poor Mary heard the grunting
and a pig stared through the gate.
Next, we hear the crashing sound,
running feet as pig appears
and looking up at Mary
piggish grin with garbage smears.
Now, Mary’s not called stupid
nor in love with new pig friend.
She bargained up the bacon,
smoked the hams and brought the end.
Valentine’s day is coming,
my fear mounts of face to face...
‘cause Mary not forgetting,
last year was the piggy chase.
Cupid