Crush (an acrostic poem)

Craving more of you so much it hurts

Realizing that I should just call our affair off

Unrelenting you undermine my self-control

So badly that I give in and reach out for you again

How is it chocolate that you don’t love me back?

 

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Crispy (an acrostic poem)

Chicken crunched satisfyingly as she chomped down

Relishing the fatty juices playing with her tongue

It made her soul dance with joy

So it surprised her when Bill complained about her chewing

Perhaps he needed to be breaded and deep-fried

Yes, that would make him more palatable

 

Image: cdn.cpnscdn.com/static.coupons.com/ext/kitchme/images/recipes/800×1200/crispy-fried-chicken_22081.jpg

 

 

Pi Day (an acrostic poem)

Perhaps being irrational is just my style

I keep going around and around

 

Didn’t stop slicing it into pieces

As I stuff as much into my face

You mean it’s a number?  Eat my shorts!

 

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Wrecked (an acrostic poem)

Waves lapped along the shoreline

Reviving Jerod and giving him a shower he desperately needed

Everything must have gone so wrong

Collecting his thoughts he realized he couldn’t remember the night before

Kneeling, he looked around him, trying to jog something loose

Everything suddenly came back.  He couldn’t believe he was so stupid

Don’t drink a whole bottle of scotch you dumbass

 

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Punch (an acrostic poem)

Pounding back the sugary alcohol

Until my eyes cross from both drugs hitting my system

Now he gets into my space and spits in my face

Could barely stand I was so bad off, but I could only take so much

Hitting him in the mouth put him in the same state as I as we both fell down

 

Image: cdn.liquor.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/dales-rainbow-planters-punch-recipe.jpg

Damned if you do… (a 50 word story)

The layers of butter and flour stared at Frank, daring him to resist their crunchy flaky goodness.  He knew taking one bite would be the end of him.  Instead, he ate the whole thing.  Frank was in for a few rounds on his porcelain throne, but damn it was good.

 

Image:  food52.com/zwVi8ZzJ-qEVoGBvbtzCdTeQE4U=/753×502/e1096761-7b59-4ea3-81b9-c0d89708adb6–IMG_0200.jpg

My Dog Ate It (a 150 word story)

“But Mr. Perkins, my dog ate all my homework,” Johnny said as he wiped his nose.  The constant sniffle the boy had was almost more annoying than the lie he was trying to tell me.

“That was an extremely old excuse even when my dad went to school,” I said.

“But it’s the truth,” Johnny pleaded.  “Honest.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I replied.  Johnny was about to say more, but I cut him off.  “Go back to your table, or I will send you to the principal’s office.”

Johnny gave up and moped his way back to his assigned spot.  I watched him put on the plastic gloves.  Like I would believe a dog would want to eat bacon wrapped jalapeño poppers.  One bite maybe, but the rest?

“Okay students.  Pick up your knives.  Today I’m going to show you how to properly clean the skin off a snapper fillet.”

 

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