Holiday Leftovers Dinner?

The once-mighty turkey is … slight.
There’s not a potato in sight.
The gravy’s spread thinner –
More snack-like than dinner.
The fridge was attacked late last night.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

The once-mighty turkey is … slight.
There’s not a potato in sight.
The gravy’s spread thinner –
More snack-like than dinner.
The fridge was attacked late last night.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

The Blob was unearthed
in the year of my birth.
It debuted the iconic McQueen.
Still, I’ve not seen a scene
on the cinema’s screen.
(I’ve an awkwardly fragile fright gene.)
But the theme song is neat –
it is hip and upbeat.
For a ‘horror’ble soundtrack, a feat!
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
In case you are interested, here is a link to the theme song. And yes, I feel old! 😀
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=theme+song+from+the+blob&docid=608056112507847468&mid=E4288864AB1DBA1089BBE4288864AB1DBA1089BB&view=detail&FORM=VIRE

This debate was more civil than first.
But responses seemed vague and rehearsed.
Though some orderliness was restored,
Many questions were simply ignored.
Undecideds, I’d just like to ask:
Did you learn who is up to the task?
Or perhaps you just think it’s a crime
that the fly did not get equal time. 😉
© 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

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

Photo credit: Deanna Marie Metts
Supposed to write a “middle” poem,
but got too much to do.
You caught me in the middle of
a critical breakthrough!
I’m finally centered, finally calm,
and finally bridged a gap,
and now I’m in the middle of
a well-earned little nap.
So, see, I cannot possibly
be writing as I sleep.
But maybe there’s an old poem
in the middle of my heap.
© Marie Elena Good, 2019

HA!!! Photo by Keith R. Good
The times I feel breath near my face
Makes me nervous of who’s in my space.
Are you foe? Are you friend?
I don’t want to offend,
But deceased, just desist! Don’t touch base!
© Marie Elena Good, 2019

Found photo at blog of James Wallace Harris
When I was just a little girl,
I’d whimper in my room.
I’d plug my ears, hold back the tears,
And fight the dread of doom.
With covers pulled up to my eyes,
I’d suffocate my scream.
What once-a-week would make me freak?
The Perry Mason theme!
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
I WAS SUCH A WIMP! Still am. 😉