Olivia (Study in Green)

She wore green and she spoke
In a very green way
About her love for horses
And her desire to ride one barebacked
At a full gallop across a grassy dale.
She greeted each gust of wind with a smile
And picked the green leaves from the trees
Then cast them off into the breeze.
Her eyes were like moss,
Soft and green.
She was only seventeen,
But already she knew what
She wanted most out of life:
More and more laughter
And wondrous green.

Senility

One evening, while staying with my parents,
I walked into the kitchen to find my father
Stacking newly washed dishes in the microwave.
Dad?
"Yes, son?"
What are you doing?
He turned and looked at me--
His mouth slightly agape,
His eyes bewildered and sad--
Then at the plates in the microwave,
And finally at the one in his hand.
"Oh."
I wanted to embrace him,
But instead I watched without a word
As he picked up the plates in the microwave,
And ever so carefully, so as not to drop them,
Carried them, and placed them in the cabinet.
Never was I so proud to be my father's son.

High School Bash

I was drunkenly explaining the meaning
Of a Pink Floyd song to my friend Aaron
When the news reached my ear.
The police are here!
I heard one girl laugh as if it weren't true.
Another cried out in anguish
As if she already were a felon,
And someone, I think, vomited their beer.
I saw Forrest out of the corner of my eye
Chugging a beer, his chin to the sky.
As for myself, I was gone.
I hopped the fence and sprinted all the way home.
Funny, I think now, it all might have been a hoax.
But that's OK. Later that night,
I drove around with my girl,
And we made love...almost.

The Peacock and the Chickens

 

Once upon a time there was a very proud and very curious peacock that lived with its family in the forest. When it got old enough, it decided that he was too beautiful and the world was too large for him to stay in one place, so he took to the skies and flew. He flew over mountains, he flew over hills and prairies, he flew over lakes and valleys, but finally he came to a small field, where, beside a pond, there resided a small chicken farm. The peacock was struck by something profound as he overheard the chickens clucking; something similar to what a traveler feels when he’s passing through a familiar town. The peacock landed and made its way over the fence into the chicken yard. He then crouched down and entered the portal into the coop.

               When the chickens saw him, they became instantly silent. They circled around him and stared in complete awe. Never before had they seen anything like him. Even the rooster was put to shame! Then, they began to bow down to the peacock, saying, “It is the Almighty One! He has come to save us! Oh, we praise you, Almighty One. Stay with us and be our leader!” Then some of the chickens began to pluck some of their feathers from their plumage and made a crown with them, which they proceeded to place on top of the peacock’s head. They fed him with many of the eggs that they had laid, and carried him to his perch on top of the feeding shelf.

               The peacock, stunned but obviously flattered by this treatment, agreed to stay. After all, who could ask for a better reception?

               The next day, however, Farmer John came into the chicken coop to collect the eggs, and beholding the peacock, said to himself, “Well Lord Almighty! Look at that!  Wouldn’t he make a fine Thanksgiving dinner!”

               So, the farmer took the peacock, which was still wearing his crown of chicken feathers, and dragged him out to the chopping block. The chickens were stunned when they heard the blow. And so, our poor peacock became Farmer John’s Thanksgiving meal. Poor peacock!

              The moral of the story: If you’re treated like a god, get out of the situation as fast as you can.

The Bear and the Snails

        Once upon a time there was a very old and very lonely bear. All of the bear’s

friends and brothers and sisters had long passed, and its children, as children are

wont to do, had moved away to far away places. And this wasn’t the only thing about

the bear’s life that was bad. A long time ago, when the bear was in his prime, a

hunter had shot him in the leg. Though the bear was able to get away, he was left

with a loathsome limp. The only real positive aspect of the bear’s life was his home,

which was a small cave on the top of a hillside overlooking a beautiful river valley.

One day, after the bear had spent the day at the river feeding on salmon, he

came home to find a family of snails in his cave. At first, the bear was confused. He

approached the snails and sniffed them. They seemed to be asleep. Then he licked

them up off the ground and began to chew them in his mouth, but they were slimy

and disgusting so he spit them out! “What are you?” said the bear. “Where did you

come from and why do you taste so disgusting?”

“We are the snail family,” said the father snail. “We come from the forest

where we only ate plants. As for your last question, I can only reply by saying that

we taste disgusting so that predators like you won’t eat us.”

The beer peered at the snail for a long time. “So you aren’t afraid of me?” he

asked.

“On the contrary,” said the father snail. “We would like to live here with you

in your cave. It is a lovely home.”

The bear thought to himself, and decided that he was very lonely and the

company might do him some good. So he allowed the snails to stay.

However, the snails began to multiply, and the cave was rather small. It

became difficult for the bear because, when he slept, he had to be careful not to roll

over so as not to crush the snails. Also, he had to work extra hard to avoid stepping

on the snails when he wanted to leave the cave, which was extra hard because of the

bear’s impediment.

One day, the bear was leaving his cave to get a drink of water when by

accident he stepped on several snails, squashing them. The snails became

uproarious. They decided that the bear must be executed for his crime, so they

jumped on top of him and began to eat him.

“Please!” cried the bear. “Don’t eat me! I didn’t mean to step on your

compatriots. It was because I have this limp from when a hunter shot me many

years ago!”

The head snail decided that he would let the bear live. However, he must

leave the cave and never come back. The bear lumbered dejectedly toward the exit

of the cave. Just as he was leaving, a baby snail perked up and said: “Wait! Don’t

leave quite yet.” The baby snail approached the bear and began climbing up its leg. It

burrowed its way under the bear’s skin. The bear was in agony but he trusted the

baby snail. Finally, the baby snail came out of the bear’s leg carrying the hunter’s

bullet on its back. The bear began to flex its leg. For the first time in years, there was

no pain.

“Oh, thank you, little snail! How can I ever repay you?”

The baby snail said: “You can repay me by staying.” Then, the baby snail

turned to its father and said, “Isn’t that right, father?”

The father smiled and said to the bear, “Well, it seems you have a guardian

angel. You can stay, bear. All is forgiven.”

And so the bear stayed, and he and the snails shared the cave for many years.

Fools

Fools. We mock them, we lambast them, and worst,
We correct them.
Not because they're wrong, but because we're right,
And we know we're right.
A fool is nothing more than a man who displays his weakness.
Oftentimes, we love him for it,
But only if, in his strength, he's a tyrant.
If you don't understand the fool,
What does that make you?
A genius?

New Year's

Poor Harold, he's drunk again,
And walking around the party in his bathrobe
And nothing else.
The first victims are the two innocent looking debutantes in the corner.
He flashes them, and they leave the party,
No longer feeling like innocent debutantes.
Now he's sticking his genitals
Into the fishbowl,
And giving it a stir.
The fish don't seem to mind,
And Harold is utterly pleased.
He's taking another shot of Hennessey,
And pondering his next move
When, almost to his delight,
He vomits on Charles' wife,
And proceeds to grab her breast as he says,
"I'm sorry."
Someone ought to end this debauchery,
And send Harold to bed.
But no one dares.
After all, it's his party we're enjoying,
And his champagne.