Spicy fried chicken.
A breast, leg and thigh.
A fried apple pie.
Triple bacon burger,
A large side of fries.
My heart won’t seize.
That thick, thick crust.
It’s a must.
At last a drink,
So I don’t choke.
I’ll wash it down
With Diet Coke.
I want to sail the ocean blue.
The open waves that we once knew.
Alone at last and feeling free.
I can’t, because the CDC.
Wuhan has some poison labs.
WHO first blamed the bat kebabs.
But the CDC has some key tips.
Disease is caused by cruising ships.
We have a very vocal puppy.
Her name is Katie.
She talks all the time.
(She gets it from her Mom.)
The problem with a vocal puppy,
Is that nobody in the house speaks Dog.
With the exception of the Chihuahua,
And nobody speaks Spanish, either.
Katie howls at the front window.
This means, “Mail’s here.”
Unless, “The yard man is mowing.”
Sometimes, “A leaf blew in the street.”
Katie whimpers by the bed.
(Only in the middle of the night.)
This means, “I must go outside.”
Or, “Daddy’s sleeping in my spot.”
Sometimes, “Can you get me a snack?”
Katie whines in the kitchen.
This means, “Feed me now.”
Perhaps, “I would like some attention.”
Rarely, “My goodness, I am full.”
Katie cries by the back door.
This means, “Potty, please.”
Unless it means, “The neighbors are loud.”
Maybe, “There is noise out front, but this door has a window.”
Katie moans by the bedroom door.
On the outside, “Let me in!”
On the inside, “Let me out!”
That one, we understand.
Weekends should be restful.
A time to recharge and relax.
This weekend, my schedule is not.
I have mentoring, a funeral,
A birthday party and more mentoring.
Plus, homework and taxes.
Can’t I just go to work instead?
Did you never see “Queer Eye”,
My dear gay friends on board?
Can’t you fix the black socks with sandals?
They’re an abomination to the Lord.