Singing The Big Box Blues

Bigger and bigger the Big Box stores
Can anyone navigate these anymore?
Big…Big…Big Box Blues

Going in circles mile after mile
Never encounter an employee who smiles
Big…Big…Big Box Blues

Searching in vain through endless aisles
Trying to locate the paper towels
Big…Big…Big Box Blues

‘Did you find what you need?’ they chortle with glee
Oblivious to the frustration in me
Big…Big…Big Box Blues

‘Paper or plastic?’ as if they care
I’m ready to tear out my very last hair
Big…Big…Big Box Blues

Check myself out and bolt for the door
To return to this place, nevermore


Word of the Day – Conniption




Rebel With A Cause

Other than baseball, my interest in sports ranges
from little to none.

And my lack of athletic prowess was well established in
elementary school.

I had a way of conveniently forgetting to tote along
a pair of slacks, so I was unable to participate in
tumbling. This move netted my one and only “D”.

Getting smacked in the face on a frigid day with
an ice cold soccer ball sealed the deal. No Olympic
trials in my future.

In high school, the girls’ Pep Club was a bit militaristic
to my way of thinking.

Everyone was required to wear matching black skirts
and red sweaters. To obtain a letter for the sweater,
members earned points by attending meetings and
selling game day ribbons bearing clever sayings,
such as: “Stew The Benson Bunnies.”

In response to this insanity, I devised an admittedly
devious solution. On those rare occasions when I wished
to attend an athletic event and sit with the Pep Club,
I borrowed the official sweater of my best friend’s sister.

I blended right in with the rest of the group and from
a distance, no one could detect I was chanting the wrong
words at the wrong time. BINGO!

Those of you reading this are henceforth sworn to secrecy.
Should the school administration get wind of this, they
could well revoke my high school diploma and place me in


Inspired by Daily Prompt – Rebel

Wild Turkey Tale


Pick up the pace we have to hurry
Matilda’s missing I’m getting worried

Into the oven she’s been shoved
Bid adieu to my true love

Packed with stuffing, trussed and skewered
I only wish she had been shrewder

Soon to be hash casserole
Thanksgiving takes a hefty toll

Pick up your feet we best not tarry
Or next they’ll snatch up uncle Harry

Have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Daily Prompt – Percolate


If only the creative process
Would yield to intimidation.

The scenario would go something like this:

Alright you little buggers,
I know you’re in there
All jumbled up together
In a nonsensical mass

Percolating away
Back in the darkest
Recesses of my mind.

I demand you hold
Your serifs up high
And step forward
In a coherent sentence
This instant

Or else I’ll tear you apart
Letter by letter
Punctuating your demise
With glee.

And they say writers are unstable.