Horny Musings [Common Meter]

I've thought about the ideal horn.
Should it be straight or curved?
Or by a spectacular rack 
would one be better served?

Maybe one would be better off
being a unicorn.
With just way too many options,
I confess I am torn.

A huge rack would most certainly
wreak hell upon the spine,
but a unicorn must get foes
to form a single line.  

I once saw a wandering oryx;
its horns were a stumper.
They seemed optimized to stabbing
off course para-jumpers. 

Mantis Kung Fu [Common Meter]

A mantis landed on the rail,
and it put up its dukes
as one might expect of madmen
or drunken Irish kooks.

Why would one seek out a fair fight
with someone much bigger,
I shook my head and started to
engage in a snigger.

But then it did occur to me
that he couldn't stand elsewise.
So, I tried to gauge his intent,
and looked him in the eyes...

and he stomped me in my nether bits -
much to my surprise.

Half-Hearted Apology to a Reptile [Common Meter]

Apologies Mister Lizard,
didn't mean to step on you.
But you kind of blend with the rock.
It's not like in the zoo;
where there's a sign and pointing kids
and barriers, to boot.
When one looks just like one's backdrop,
it behooves one to scoot.

Sorry again about your tail.
I'm sure it will grow back.
Call it a teachable moment,
&
get an orange knapsack!

A Thousand Feet & a Foot-Long [Common Meter]

The millipede was a foot long,
but, some might ask, whose foot?
Its own feet being quite petite
might suggest Lilliput.

But though it wasn't a footlong foot,
it was long for a bug,
a worm, a beetle, a wood mouse,
a spider, or a slug.

A snake that long would be a babe,
or, at least, quite stunted.
So, now I find my amazement
being a bit blunted. 

BOOK REVIEW: Sheeple’ by Simon Carr

Sheeple'Sheeple’ by Simon Carr
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Amazon.in Page

This is an absurdist sci-fi hero’s journey, featuring an everyman, Jim, who discovers that not only is the world not at all what it appears to be, he is far from what he believes himself to be. The world is as the conspiracy kooks see it, Jim is Satan’s spawn, and it will fall to him and his mildly villainous cohort to save the world from another — also semi-evil — faction.

Absurdist stories can get away with all sorts of deus ex machina happenings and logical inconsistencies that would never fly in other genres. This book capitalizes on this fact to some degree. However, one can only really get away with those problematic story elements if the book is: 1.) a laugh-riot of hilarity – such that the reader doesn’t notice or care about those “defects,” or 2.) carefully composed be clear in the face of the bizarreness that is part and parcel of the genre. This book is fully neither. Don’t get me wrong; it’s an amusing story with some genuinely humorous events and turns of phrase. However, it also has more fun with plays on the word “Uranus” than anyone other than an eight-year-old boy has a right to have. While it has its moments, some of the humor feels forced, and so the overall effect isn’t likely to remind readers of the work of Douglas Adams.

If you’re looking for a carefree read that will give you a chuckle here and there, give this book a look. But I can’t say that I got drawn into it to the point that I was desensitized to its spasticity.

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Kuala Lumpur Limerick

Two builders working in Kuala Lumpur
vied to outdo each other's grandeur;
but one tower is straight,
and the other one ain't.
So, I guess we know who won that war.

Rishikesh Limerick

A visitor to scenic Rishikesh
met a wandering bovine in the flesh.
It's only notable
cuz it sought a table
in a mo-mo joint of old Rishikesh.

DAILY PHOTO: Bull Oversees the Line at Soylent Green Production Facility

Taken on July 24, 2021 in Sigandur, KA, India

POEM: Don’t Tease the Monkeys

Hey, naked baby macaque,
who stole the hair off of your back,
but left you that blocky hairdo?
Perhaps, you didn't think your look through?

POEM: The Shepherd Dream [PoMo Day 23 – Eclogue]

I lie on the sloping hillside;
damp grass tickles my neck.
I hear the bleating beasts kibitz
as dogs keep them in check.

My eyes closed to the azure dome,
until eyelids grow dim.
I open wide to see the sky,
and note that it grows grim.


It's time to consult my sheepdog,
"Should we beat it, or stay?"

He barks to me, "Now can't you see,
the clouds 're dirty wool gray?"

"I see it clearly as my hand,
but what does that shade mean?"

"It means you're not a shepherd, and
you may need the latrine."