(COUGH, COUGH)

My first job, at The Niles Bank,
I worked between two men who smoked.
The office held a haze that stank.
I wanted to speak up, but choked.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

My first job, at The Niles Bank,
I worked between two men who smoked.
The office held a haze that stank.
I wanted to speak up, but choked.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

He says hi there;
she says hello.
“Which floor?” he asks.
She doesn’t know.
His finger waits,
then starts to tap.
Her face turns red.
She thinks, “Oh crap.
Why can’t I think?
Just pick a floor!”
Her brain congeals.
He taps some more.
“Just. Pick. A. Floor.”
That thought now slips
from clotted brain
through tense, pursed lips.
With sideways glance
and impish smirk,
he presses 12.
(Joker? Or Jerk?)
Long, silent ride
can’t end too soon.
It seems to take
all afternoon.
She ruminates
entire ride,
should parting words
be kind? Or snide?
She isn’t sure
how this should end –
Just like my awkward
poem, my friend.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

I love gentle rain (yep, you bet),
but I do not like floods, tears, or sweat.
Love lakes, streams, and seas,
and love raindrops that freeze.
But I most love my liquid assets.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Image courtesy of Prawny at Pixabay
At the top of the slide, she screams.
(As in chillingly nightmarish dreams.)
And it’s all justified:
There’s an ant on the slide,
So she’s coming apart at the seams.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Photo of “The Bean,” by Poppa
When your leader suggests disinfectant,
ingestible or an injectant,
should you chuckle or cry
or heave a big sigh
and wonder what you were expectin’?
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Okay so part of me feels guilty about this one, but we gotta laugh, right?!

WHOA! THE PROMPT FOR TODAY IS “EROTIC”????!!!
HAS OUR PROMPTER BECOME IDIOTIC???!!!
I’M UPSET AND UPTIGHT!!!!!!!
WHAT’S BECOME OF THIS SITE???!!!
WHY, I’LL GIVE HIM A PIECE … Oh. “Exotic.”
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

I will not write Sestinas, sir.
It’s not the form that I prefer.
See, when I try, my brain won’t purr.
It spits and chokes. My mind’s a blur.
I will not write for him, or her.
I will not write Sestinas, sir.
And you’d be right if you infer
I will not write Sestinas, sir.
To navigate me through, for sure
I’d have to have a good chauffer.
Or wine or beer or hard liquor.
But I don’t drink, so then I’d slur.
I will not write Sestinas, sir.
To your insistence, I demur.
My mind is striking, as it were.
I’m not a poetry poseur.
To Walt Wojtanik, I’ll defer –
Our chief Sestina Whisperer.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Found this fun one on Cartoon Stock. Super fun, Tarnowski!
When the hubby attempts do to plumbing,
I’ll hear him sporadically humming.
Then hints of some fumbling
bring mumbling and grumbling.
That’s when I know cursing’s forthcoming.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020