We’re falling apart.
From head to toes,
From North to South,

All parts must go.

We’re forgetting things
We used to know.
From basic to complex,
From fast to slow.

There’s other problems,
This was just a little bit.
I had even more problems,
I don’t know where I wrote it.

Columbus on a Cruise

Imagine if Columbus didn’t have
The Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria.
What if he just took Norwegian?

Sailing out of Barcelona.
Nothing but blue skies and blue seas.
(Maybe a Carnival ship, but that’s confusing.)

“Sir! We’re out of salt tack!”
The buffet is on deck 10.
Washy, Washy. Happy, Happy.

“Sir! I burned my eyes with the sextant.”
Why aren’t you using the GPS?
Why are we steering manually, anyway?

“Sir! When will we arrive?”
We should be in Miami on Tuesday.
I’ll be in the casino.

The First Dalmatian

Some dogs have specific jobs.
They were bred to do a task.
Other dogs just wander ’round.
Ignoring what you ask.

Mommies never show their age.
They have ways of stalling time.
There are many tricks of their trade,
To keep them looking in their prime.

We have a goofy dog that owns us.
He doesn’t listen very well.
He pokes people for attention.
Sometimes, he makes you yell.

Mommy’s gray is vanishing.
She’s got gloves and dye in pots.
Our doggie poked her in the leg,
And now the dog’s got spots.

Furosemide Blues

My doctor found excess water
In my ankles and my feet.
He said, “I have a cure for you,
Here’s a pill that can’t be beat.”

I never used to exercise.
My feet were made of clay.
But now, I take Furosemide.
So, I run around all day.

I’ve located every bathroom,
Between my office and my home.
I’ve panic stopped at most of them.
I’m never far to roam.

I’ve found the shortest distance
To every rest room on my floor.
I know how to avoid the talkers,
I’m not distracted any more.

I’m running more than ever,
From sea to shining sea.
I’ll complete this in a moment,
But first, I have to pee.

Fifty Five

Wine improves with aging,
So does imported cheese.
My life has turned to vinegar,
So, can I stop aging, please?

I wrote a poem at fifty-four,
It wasn’t bad, I think.
But that was a year ago,
Now, I need a drink.

I don’t really feel that old.
Age is all in the mind, I see.
So, I guess I’ll pick a random time,
Let’s say, I’m forty-three.

In spite of all the Facebook posts,
My expression is still stony.
I’ve finally admitted to myself,
I’ll never get a pony.

Pets Are Not Children

Pets are not children,
They don’t even date.
They never go to college,
They can sleep in a crate.

Pets are not children,
Even if they wear clothes.
Do you think about your child,
Where did he last stick that nose?

Pets are not children,
They will play all day long.
And the other parents
Can’t say they’re doing it wrong.

Pets are not children,
They can play all alone.
But when it gets really quiet,
They’re destroying your home.

Pets are not children,
Some would say they’re more.
However, I don’t think my child
Ever peed on the kitchen floor.

Zoned Out

I wish I lived on East Coast time.
I’m so tired now, the words don’t rhyme.

This meeting started right at nine,
Or eight bloody AM, Central Time.

Last week, I had a class right after lunch.
So it was during mine, so thanks a bunch.

It could be worse, I always say.
I could live on the Coast, say, in LA.

California is the place you ought to be,
If you want meetings before you can even see.

New York is the center of the universe, fine.
Just stop making us work on New York time.