Track (an acrostic poem)

 

The rat race isn’t getting any easier

Running as fast as you can in circles

And all you can hope for is some crappy medal

Consider what would happen if you tried a different sport?

Kick off those tired sneakers and grab a javelin?

 

Image: ymcamontgomery.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/iStock_000003851477_Large-cropped-1024×432.jpg

Doorman (an acrostic conversation)

Do you remember when they didn’t open automatically?”

Of course I do.  I’m older than you, you fool.”

Obviously, look at your lack of hair.”

Really?  I’m going to kick you through one in just a second.”

Man, just calm down.  Back then, people, had jobs opening them.”

And where the hell are you going with this?”

Now my backup career is becoming extinct, and I never got one of the hats.”

King Me (an acrostic poem)

Keeping on top was always Bob’s goal

It allowed him to jump over the obstacles in his way

Now the playing field was empty of most of the chafe

Giving Bob a clear idea of who is real competition was

 

Moving diagonally, he finally found his home

Enabling him to kick it to the next level

 

Image: ministry-to-children.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/checkers.jpg

Love is Blind? (a 100 word diatribe)

Bob bristled at Angie’s comment.

“Love isn’t blind,” he said.  “Love sees everything.  Every wart, every defect.  Everything.  Love just accepts all those things and keeps giving hugs.  Love wants to show you that it’s okay to not be perfect, to fail, to do something stupid.  Love is there to be wounded, kicked to the teeth, and spit upon.  That’s why love is considered folly by some and ludicrous by others, but in the end, love wants to see you be the best you you can be.”

“But Charlie is blind in the book,” Angie said.

“But his love isn’t.”

 

Image: thepersonaldevelopmentguy.com/image-files/blind-red-love-heart.jpg

Pastries to the Rescue! (a very short story)

I’m like a broken clock, right twice a day.  Unfortunately, this was not one of them.  How did I know?  The man’s fist changing the direction my chin had been pointing mere moments earlier was my first hint.  Luckily my body is that of a trained warrior.  Well one that had way too much vodka to drink, hadn’t seen combat in the last twelve years and spent half of that time eating fancy buttery French pastries for a living.

At least gravity didn’t fail me.  I collapsed to Mother Earth’s embrace.  I must have offended her as well since her arms were so hard and cold.  I wanted to mourn this decline in our relationship when the aforementioned man decided to kick me in the gut.  That was his big mistake.  I had him right where I wanted him.  I folded myself around that foot and introduced the caught appendage to the regurgitated contents of my lunch, which included an egg sandwich encased in a wonderfully flaky croissant dosed with a lemony hollandaise.  It was so good going down, but not so much coming back the other way.

Still, that was enough to make the man yank his foot out and leave me alone.  As I laid there in my own stomach juices I wondered how this could get worse.  Then I snuffled.

Man, stomach acid and nostrils just don’t mix.

 

 

Image: lecremedelacrumb.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/baked-croissant-breakfast-sandwiches-103.jpg

Like a Girl

Tony looked at the girl standing in front of him.  She was all hard angles, not a curve in sight, except for the nose.  Even her short hair was cut at severe hard angles.  The most severe things were her eyes, which right now were locked on Tony’s.  Tony couldn’t help but feel the ferocity emanating from this young lady.

“Look, I’m sorry that I thought you were a boy,” Tony said trying to play it off.  “You could think of that as a compliment.”

“What if I called you a girl?” she asked, her hands taking up offensive positions at her hips.  “Would you like that compliment?”

Tony began to laugh, but then thought better of it, but it was too late.  He could tell those first chuckles cemented him as public enemy number one in her eyes.

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to be insulting,” Tony said.  “It’s just that you don’t look like a…”  Tony paused as his brain ran out words that it thought were safe to say.

“Is that all a girl is to you?  Is it just a look?” she asked.  The girl put the dreaded air quote with that last question.

Tony realized there was no winning this situation.  “Look, if you can’t take a joke just leave,” he said.

The girl took two steps forward and kicked him in the crotch.  Tony‘s privates screamed surrender and his knees agreed and folded, taking Tony to the ground with them.

The girl took one step back and smiled defiantly.  “How’s that for a girl?” she asked.  Tony had no immediate rebuttal since all his thoughts were being delayed by the train wreck that had happened in his nether region.  The girl took his quiet moaning as a sign of victory, and she strutted away in triumph.

When Tony could finally think again he watched all those angles walk away and thought, “Well, she doesn’t kick like a girl.”