Betty Page New York Paint
Armenian Trace
The child's water
Sailing luxury
Strings off from sight of Italy
Calmed duration
Inlands islands
Cotton spokes
A cats residence
Before memory of the shop
Key Lime
Cookie Thins
And Coffee
The French jam sister of yours
Plays at reunions
With herself
Go bothered, Erin
It's her? The sister it gave you?
Yes Betty
Kevin, she watches "Will He Become Trollops"
In England!
Very Interupt, two should hide in one often
Categories:
yorker, cat,
Form: Free verse
The New Yorker is having a birthday –
It’s made it to one hundred years.
With each story, cartoon, poem or essay,
It’s jump-started many careers.
Despite what it’s called, you can buy it
At newsstands or else go on line
And subscribe – since my brother did try it,
He gets his in the mail before mine!
Colorado is where he is living;
We both read it and then we discuss
All the articles that it keeps giving
To curious people like us.
I have some complaints – sometimes writing
Prattles on many pages too long
And most poems, instead of delighting,
Make no sense and I don’t think I’m wrong.
Yet I’m happy for every arrival,
With a crossword to tackle, as well,
And I hope its continued survival
Will outlast those whom truth would dispel.
Categories:
yorker, appreciation, writing,
Form: Rhyme
If the subject is appealing,
I’ll, at first, begin to read,
Though the facts with which I’m dealing
Are way more than what I need.
All the knowledge that I’m gaining,
By the time I reach page 3,
Can’t prevent my interest waning
And I’m sure it’s not just me.
Aren’t the editors aware of
When a story is too long?
For as readers, we despair of
Lack of reining in what’s wrong.
What I mostly end up doing
Is abandoning, mid-stream,
Someone’s effort, rarely ruing
That it might be gaining steam.
Still, I’ll stick with my subscription;
Through its pages I will comb.
What might cause a true conniption
Is an enigmatic poem!
Categories:
yorker, words,
Form: Rhyme
My husband won a contest
On a weekly FM quiz
To prove to all who listen
What a “know-it-all” he is.
The prize is a certificate
And maybe some acclaim
From the kith and kin tuned in
When Jeff*, the DJ, says your name.
A call came through soon after
For the winner’s home address
And Jeff playfully explained to us,
As if it would impress:
“Now when you get your certificate,
It’s valuable to you.
When you go out to a restaurant,
This is what you need to do…”
So we thought, free meal or discount,
But that wasn’t what he said,
Though he had us both in stitches
By what he exclaimed instead:
“If your table has a wobble
In one leg a little bit,
Take your prize and fold and place it,
Very gently, under it.”
Well, this “know-it-all New Yorker”
Learned just what his title’s worth
But it added to our day
With the injection of some mirth.
*Jeff Spurgeon, WQXR-FM, NYC
Categories:
yorker, appreciation, humor, husband,
Form: Rhyme