(One last poem for NaPoWriMo)

Last day of the month.
I’ve drawn a blank.
My mind is numb.
An empty tank.

My dogs are quiet.
Now of all times.
My annoyance with them
Always makes good rhymes.

I’m sure something will come,
There’s an idea somewhere.
I just hope it arrives,
I may need prayer.

(See you next year.)


Laid off.
Thrown away.
I don’t feel
Very good today.

Time to find
Another job.
A long-term gig,
A bank to rob.

Nineteen years,
Down the drain.
I need something
To ease the pain.

So much time,
On the treadle,
So where is my
Participation medal?


I suppress another yawn.
Where has all the time gone?
There is too much to say.
Not enough time left to play.
I am just trying to hang on.

I need time to slow down.
Let the crises leave town.
I need time to think.
I’m starting to sink.
Must be a nervous breakdown.


Stop licking me!
Stop barking!
Really. Stop licking me!
Please get off my head.
Naps with a puppy are not very restful.

Corporate Baseball 

Just think if baseball managers took management lessons from today’s Corporate America. MLB would never be the same.

We’re not winning games,
So while not naming names,
It is time for dynamic leadership.

We have to save money,
So while at first it sounds funny,
The outfield is moving away.

In Kuala Lumpur,
We can hire twenty-four,
While here we only have three.

They work 24×7,
In shifts of eleven,
So we have email coverage all day.

We named a Coach of Overseas,
Who has many degrees,
And he will manage the emails.

When a ball is hit deep,
We just remember they’re cheap,
And send someone out from the infield.

We’re still in the cellar,
So in the name of Bob Feller,
We’re merging our infield and bullpen.

We gain great economy of scale,
And to make sure we don’t fail,
We’re cutting all left-handed pitchers.

We added a Coach of Pitch-Catch,
To build this new group from scratch,
With the support of both our old coaches.

We split our latest homestand,
So we’re rebuilding the brand,
But we expect more from our players.

To accelerate the pace,
We’ve chosen third base,
For the infield to all colocate.

Once they all move,
Our fielding will improve,
Because of the cross-pollenization.

We’re not getting ahead,
So our leaders have said,
Next game, we remove all the catchers.

Pitchers need the ball put in play,
Then we will have to all pray,
The ball goes towards third and the infield.

Our team is out of the race,
We’re stuck in last place,
And so, we’re switching to football.


Almost two long weeks away.
Approach the door,
And let us pray.
Man, it’s good to be home.

Bathed in happy dog spit,
Just watch the floor
For happy dog shit.
Man, it’s good to be home.

Roll the suitcases away.
One thing we can ignore.
We’ll unpack another day.
Man, it’s good to be home.