Lines of pepper
lines of salt

with cream sugar
and by design

a happy face

it's just what the doctor ordered
as well as getting lost in coffee

and the pulpy verse of Beetle Baily
Funky Winkerbean and other funnies


Whit Howland © 2020

Sometimes i hear soft footsteps
Walking in an empty hall
Softly invading empty rooms
Nothing to see
Only to hear
Are these my spirits
Walking around
Trying to gather
My thoughts

Our greatest adversaries...the ones we must fight most often is within ourselves.

i envision a unity
of information
a seamless integration
of human creativity
and technology

imagine the whirls
and hums
of data being processed
transferred
syncing, streaming, downloading
packet up all this information
and crash it around the world
throw it around
for the sake of
human knowledge
free and open

just at comfort's edge
where questions bite
beyond the flickering
wilderness of us all
you can sit and dangle
your legs, soak up
giddy pride and dare,
dare to answer
what we already know
inside, but cannot touch

My mouth waters taste buds tickle
When I see a jar of lemon pickle!

On the sunny roof the lemon pickle
It starts a child’s saliva’s trickle!

It still gives his conscience a *****
He played on the old man a trick!

For the old one was sunned on the roof
Jar of lemon pickle what a goof!

The glass jar stayed there all day
But the child just couldn’t stay away!

At midday when they all were asleep
Little feet climbed the stairs steep!

Made sure not an eye was watching
What joy did the sight of pickle bring!

The child such small was his need
He only had to open the jar’s lid!

Pick up one for nothing he could miss
One juicy sweet sour lemon piece!

In his mischief he did go that far
Each ****** piece he put back in the jar!

So that they would never find a trace
Not one piece of lemon would be less!

The poor old man he never knew
The child’s blended saliva in the brew!

The child ****** pickle had his fill
What the old man relished with his meal!

I know this story isn’t worth a nickel
Still I find irresistible the lemon pickle!

Casting my craft out
upon creation's shallows;
pray to pull in art.