The Smirking Box

A smirking box landed on my door:
Ha, didn’t think you cared anymore!
Oh, old letters, stuff, rings and things, passe—
So, you’re really telling me to go away?

Another storm warning for our Gulf shore
Nicholas’s turn to Louisiana full explore;
Biblical inches so promised, we’ll get thorough wet,
But ‘tis not Armageddon, at least not yet

Another drained glass with merlot at the store;
Palmolive suds up the dishes to drain galore;
Wishbone Ash chasing golden hair blowing free;
Paris in two weeks, just to see what I can see

Smirking box makes it all the way out to the dumpster
Along with samesuch trash with our inarticulate Trumpster.
The stars out of reach for sad hearts so compressed
Ah, so it’s Noon, I ‘spose I’ll go get dressed

About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on September 13, 2021, in Poem and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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