"Mom, mom,"*  calls Susie
back home after school
in her new spurt of teenage energy
"I've decided:
when I grow up
I'm going to be a pop singer"

"But sweetheart," says mom,
the cool one
classy at all times
*"You know you can't do both"

well,  let's stop at this motel
have dinner and a nice shower
go to bed early
and if we leave at about 10
tomorrow morning
drive in the general direction we took today
*we'll arrive nowhere...comfortably in no time

I walked in to the University
I said, "Show me the library;
that's what I always want to see"
And they brought me into
The Hemingway Library -
and that had me drooling, that
they'd think of naming the place after
that famous writer, and a favourite

"That's amazing," I told my guide
"that so far away from the USA
you'd think of naming it after Ernest Hemingway"

"Oh no," said the guide, puzzled
"It's named after Andrews Hemingway"

"Is he a writer?" I asked

"Oh, sort of," my guide explained,
*"he wrote us a cheque for 2 million"

"Daddy,"* said Catharine as I tucked her
into bed, "will you tell me a tale?"
So I told her the story
of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves
with Disney's ***** and Grumpy  
thrown in for good measure;
and when I finished she pulled out
an apple from under her pillow
and she said I should eat it
I laughed and I did, and spent 7 days in hospital
And my doctor said I was lucky to have survived
the poisoned apple
Catharine won't tell us where she got it from

Today Catharine stands before me
and her stepmom
as we have dinner
And she places two pink cupcakes on the table
and she smiles, and she whispers:
*"Eat...that's from Hansel and Gretel"

so I brought my writer wife
(prominently pregnant)
to the hospital
and on her bed, she screamed:
"weren't" "hasn't" "couldn't" "shan't"
"aint" "hadn't" "you're" "isn't"
"aren't" "didn't" "wasn't"
"who's?" "what's?" "he's" "she's"

The doctors were confounded
and they turned to me and they said:
"What the hell is she doing?"

And I replied with double speed
and a violent sense of urgency:
*"Don't you know?
She's having contractions -
she's a writer"

She was thin and svelte,
And when I held her, a perfect fit.
I’d caressed her face,
and she knew me.
My fingers found her every button…..and I could turn her on.

But alas,
she is like a fragile flower behind glass.
I have locked her in a dungeon,
safe from harm.

She wears armor like a medieval knight.
and has become an urban soldier.
Though still steadfastly by my side,
she has grown cold,
uniform,
vanilla…..
a number.

But sometimes late at night,
when they are not watching,
while the cruel and shattering world sleeps,
I slowly undress her,
take of her skirt of mail,
and in the fully charged glow of togetherness,
we are once again,
one.

*Uninspired after enclosing my new Galaxy s5 in an Otterbox.

I'm unapologetically a bit too sensitive
   highly attuned to inanimate feelings

the lone Cheerio circling the drain is given
   a kindred companion for its journey

considerate thought is given to the preferences
   of animal crackers...heads or legs bitten first

many items are thanked before discarded
   others parted with reluctantly if ever

a twinge of conscience is felt while pruning
   perfectly healthy leaves from house plants

objects are arranged in pairs and groups
   in a compassionate effort for inclusion

The Velveteen Rabbit makes perfect sense to me

She will lose herself in a book
and find herself in poetry

She thinks that religion is a sacrilege
and that long showers are sacred

She makes love when she's tired
and never tires of making love

She is irreverent in her humor
and pious in her gravity

She is diligent in completing her work
and ambitious of her quest for leisure

She is the personification of romanticism
and the embodiment of compassion

She exists harmoniously in my mind