If I might

If I might

If I might, I'd return the favor
Bridgetteania, well, you are my favorite flavor

If you'd like, I will shout it only too loud
Just enough, to top out on the bright cloud

And when I do, I will 'I do' forever

(When I did 'I Do' I did 'I Do' forever)(!?)

*inspired by Kevin Kinney's S.T.A.R.

I will

I will

I will gladly make more coffee
If you will kindly just get off me
Would you like some cream in it
Or shall I sing a sonnet
If you give me one more minute
I will put some sugar on it

If you call me by my first name
I will happily play your game
And move your piece across the board
Or shall I sing like a bird
And mark your card when you score
And tell you what I just heard

If we stay in this bed all day
What will your nosy neighbors say
And should we listen to them
Or shall I sing to her and him
Or should we shout sarcasm
And then just let the lights go dim

*inspired by Kevin Kinney's S.T.A.R.

Ain't Your Friend

Ain't Your Friend

Best friend, best man, human being
Hawaii blue collar waterskiing

But when will you understand
Come to understand
That George Bush ain't your friend
Ain't your man

Don't mean to offend
But George Bush ain't your man
Ain't your friend

*inspired by Kevin Kinney's S.T.A.R.

Another Country Love Song

Another Country Love Song

When it all gets said and done
I'll be the favorite thing you lose

When I'm dead and you're on the run
I'll be the best damn thing you ever got to abuse

But it's a long haul
When you're this wrong
So if it's the wrong song
You should just go ahead and play 'em all

You never did make it through
As it turns out and for heaven's sake
It was a salt flat not a big lake
But your first mirage always looks so true

Still it's a strong pull
When you're getting along
But if it's the wrong kind of strong
You should just go ahead and toss it all

You were so young it's overdone and oversung
But still
You got so stung your young bell got rung
Enough to make you kill

But I was . . .
Just a dumb kid too

I guess that . . .
Didn't occur to you

You kicked me out
You run me down
Pedal to the floor
Tension get all mounting

You hit me once
Or maybe twice
The final count was four
but hey who's counting

You laughed a scoff
As you took off
You think I ain't here no more
I'm with you on your outing

When it gets all said and done
I'll be the favorite thing you lost

When I'm already dead and you're the next one
I'll be the best damn garbage you ever tossed

*inspired by Kevin Kinney's S.T.A.R.

Vegas

Vegas

Asymmetrical anomaly called Vegas
At its best, a drive by town
At worse, highly contagious

Hyperbolic hubris called Vegas
Five star dining
Otherwise quite tasteless

Neon blocks don't set your clocks in Vegas
Dump your money in the slots
You don't even have to make us

All one can say is at the end of the day
Well, there aint' one
'Cause yesterday don't go away till
Tomorrow's already having too much fun

Last call is just the latest time that you called
Next call will start it up and end it all

Fountains explode and sing pop songs
Every half hour
People watch and scratch and botch
And ride the Eiffel Tower

Vile vibrant vagrant place called Vegas
take all our coins
But please don't change us

Leave us stunned and undone
But don't you ever try to faze us

*inspired by Kevin Kinney's S.T.A.R.

No Vacancy at the Keyring

No Vacancy at the Keyring

Got me a real full keyring
It makes me a real King

I can make deposits
I can unlock closets

People hear me comin'
I jungle like I'm drummin'

It hangs off my belt-loop just right
Not too footloose and not too uptight

In this corridor called jungle
I'm the only lonely top-tier human
I know exactly
Practically what I'm doin'

And I can be here after everything closed
And I know some things that only I can know
By the hour so generally I go slow
They even give me my very own grey matching clothes

So much better than the striped ones I used to know

There is no vacancy here at my keyring
It's all filled up just like my head says I'm king

*inspired by Kevin Kinney's S.T.A.R.

'Pastafarians Invade Catalina'

I understand what a treacherous situation we had unwittingly put ourselves in. Now that the Noodly Appendage has touched us, we realize what a perilous time we inhabited.

Photos of Pastafarian flags, tremulous in urbane breezes off Two Harbors, sparked this recollection.

On our honeymoon in 2002, my bride (atheist) and I (a-religious) choppered from Long Beach to Catalina. I was thinking that almost anyone would feel tall stooping to exit a helicopter with head intact as I did so. The village of Avalon can be described as a netherworld of small and 'short' or even 'dwarfed' streets. A fleet of golf-carts, nothing more than 'midget' cars, buzz harmlessly up and down the noodly byways.

We walked the short distance to our accommodation on a little hill. It featured low ceilings, short doors and a tiny bed. The place was short on amenities but did offer a plethora of Zane Grey novels. I still haven't read 'em.

Once we had settled in, we ventured down to the dwarf, er, I mean wharf or harbor or marina. I still felt tall and didn't know why. Was it the euphoria of still having a head or the heady excitement of being on my honeymoon?

It was neither. I had experienced this sensation some years earlier among the indigenous population of landlocked (no pirates) Bolivia.

I/we were tall. It was a midget convention. Boatloads of little people had been infiltrating Avalon all week. It was culminating in this weekend long celebration of small persons.

I realize now that among the hundreds of sail-boat masts, rocking like a drunken forest, not a single Jolly Roger flew. This was a place desperately in need of a pirate intervention.

I would bet that not a single midget was at Two Harbors or Avalon during the Pastafarian Invasion.

Spaghettily yours. Ramen!

Image Credit