blast from the past

At the request of Elizabeth, I am uploading an old humor poem that I wrote in October 2006:

While Idling Sunday Afternoon Style,

Elizabeth tells me a story:

My grandmother had this fat dog

Sassy, a schnauzer with a tiny

head and this mondo body!

Once she heard cheese was good for dogs--

so she would feed it 

Crunchy Cheetos...

Elizabeth, uncertain if

Sassy still lives

breathes and eats 

caloric snack food,

continues:

When my grandmother moved

to a retirement community, she

gave Sassy to the mailman

a big man with a white beard

who rides motorcycles with

his wife on Sunday afternoons...

We speculate about this new,

cycle-strapped Sassy who

sports Amelia Earheart

knock-offs and faux

biker black leather, and

imagine

how her body must

jiggle and throb with each

engine gun while

wind whirled saliva,

tinged with

artificial orange,

flies at cars bound 

down the Oregon Coast.

So, for some reason, I was accepted into UofM's creative writing concentration for writing things like...this...