Music (an acrostic poem)

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Making passionate love to my soul

Under the vibrating cones of the massive speakers

Sound crashing out in waves and washing over me

It transports me to a place of tranquility

Carrying the problems of the world away for a small bit of time

Soapy (an acrostic conversation)

 

So this thing about washing your hands?

Obviously you need to do it every time.

And if you don’t?  I’m asking for a friend.

Perhaps I don’t shake hands with you anymore.

Yeah.  That’s probably a good idea.

 

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