Feed the Neighborhood

“Let’s feed the birds”, she said.
“They all look cold and hungry.”
This meant more than day-old bread.
This became an industry.

The poles went up across the lawn.
They held the many feeders.
Different birds were ever drawn.
Some of them were breeders.

Birds cannot a secret keep.
Someone told the squirrels.
We watched the varmints learn to leap,
To feed based on the bird’s referrals.

The squirrels told a rabbit.
Bunny Mom brought her babies.
Now, there were holes in the lawn.
I hope they don’t have rabies.

The bunny attracted a cat.
Cats don’t want to eat seeds.
The cat will kill little bunnies.
One of some very evil deeds.

The cat never came back,
After the bunnies fled the nest.
It really was a shame it left,
Since rats were our next guests.

Squirrels, bunnies, cats, rats.
All because we fed the birds.
I think we’ll put the food away.
You can mark my words.

Proctology Final Exam

You have accomplished much to date.
You’ve passed all the exams,
You were never late.

There remains one final test.
It’s been called unfair by some,
But it’s really for the best.

Before you perform your first exam,
One important detail remains.
So your patients don’t scram.

Quickly now! We shall not linger.
We merely check the length and width.
Please present your index finger.


I am watching my son.
He is on YouTube.
He is not playing sports.
He is not at band camp.

In these modern times,
Many parents watch their sons
On YouTube or TikTok.
Most are appalled.

I am rather proud.
It is an older video.
It is from last year.
He is preaching.

He is a professor,
Not a preacher,
But professors
Just lecture.

So, he is lecturing.
However, it is in Chapel.
That is pretty much

My son is at his job,
Talking about Jesus.
I mention Jesus at work,
But in a different context.

How did a lowly sinner
Such as I
Produced a preacher?
(Even part-time.)

I’m sure his Mom
Takes all the credit.
That’s how it works.
Athletes say, “Hi Mom!”

Preachers talk about
The Father and the Son.
I guess I got half-credit
In the divorce.

Go away.

Old School

This is old school writing.
It is how I learned to write.
It is probably not for the
“younger generation.”

I write my thoughts.
Sometimes they rhyme.
People read my thoughts.
Sometimes they complain.

Nowadays, this should not
Just be words in stanzas.
There should be a video.
It would have me reading.

I would read the poem.
This way, you can just listen.
While you listen,
You can see me.

Nobody wants that.
Maybe just the words
Scrolling on the screen.
A lyric poem.

Watching it takes longer
Than just reading it.
Plus, before the video,
You can see an ad or two.

Also, the rest of the page
Should have stories about
My life, my wife, my dogs.
Anything that inspired me.

I am sorry, but I am old.
You do not have to film words.
You do not have to read to me.
I can read it by myself.