Mary had a little lamb,
two lobsters and a Christmas ham,
a three-pound tub of chicken wings,
seven bratwurst tied with strings,
thirteen loaves of garlic bread,
a schnitzel bigger than her head,
four rare steaks, a dozen eggs,
caviar and turkey's legs,
strips of bacon, mushroom stew,
chunks of bread and cheese fondue,
and two whole jars of sauerkraut,
(to clean all of her insides out).

Finishing the pasta salad,
Mary soon looked drawn and pallid.
"I don't feel well," poor Mary said.
"I think I need to rest my head."
Then from her stomach came a moan,
a straining, churning, twisted groan.
Mary gasped; her eyes grew wide.
She'd only seconds to decide.
What could she do? Where could she go?
Her stomach was about to blow!
So, reaching for the nearest bucket,
she retched, and then began to chuck it.

All the courses that she'd swallowed,
and the apertifs they'd followed,
all the steaks and all the fish,
each and every single dish
came flying back from in her belly,
filling up the bucket smelly
with a foul and toxic brew,
and no one knew quite what to do,
so this went on for ten whole minutes
till Mary had expelled her innards.
When she was done, her eyes were red,
and sweat was pouring from her head.

"Are you alright, sweet Mary dear?"
her mother asked. She didn't hear.
For Mary was already off -
the waiters saw her try to scoff
the whole entire pudding bar.
Now, this had pushed her mum too far.
"Alright!" her mother cried, "I'm through!
I've done the best that I can do.
I'm sick and tired of all you eat.
I will not pay for all this meat.
I'm going home. Go get some help —"
Then Mary's mum let out a yelp!

She glanced down at her legs and saw
sweet Mary there begin to gnaw!
She struck the lass, but with great haste,
alas, the girl had reached her waist.
As Mary's ma was there devoured
by her offspring, overpowered,
she cried one thing ere final slaughter:
"It smells like lamb in here, my daughter."
Mary licked her lips and grinned.
She belched out loud and then broke wind.
She felt her tummy start to rumble -
and calmly ordered apple crumble.

it’s all behind me,

the past,

like a dream,

a dream I once lived in
with vivid memories
of nostalgia and the
many people I’ve
encountered and
can’t remember
along the way

some alive,
some dead,
some gay,
some straight,
some drunk,
some sober,
some successful,
some still searching for success,
(no one is a failure)
some married,
some single forever
but the fragrance of
our friendship is gone,
past expired and evaporated.

I will never see them again
until I hear about their untimely
death and make myself present
to a funeral I wasn’t invited to but...

today is not yesterday,
today is not tomorrow,
today is today,
today is right now
and right now is the most
overlooked opportunity
to make something happen

so tonight,
just like the night before it
and many nights after,
the sun will settle down
leaving the clouds burning
red and the luminous moon
will leave a smudge print
in the night sky

I will not phone an
old friend and play
“catch up” with our lives
and speak of old times past,

just sit in my fortress of solitude
with the best strategy I know.....
to get drunk
without any.

it will remain
better this way

from this moment forward

By: Lauren Salvo

My three-year-old daughter stares at the wall wondering,

“Will I ever see him again?”
“Why can’t I see him now?”

Everything she had is lost
because we don’t want what is right in front of us.

Instead of loving what we have,
We hope to God what we had comes back.
But of course she feels this way, she is three.

She didn’t care much about that stuffed cat
her dad bought for her about a month ago,
but now she refuses to go anywhere without it.
She wants to run to the front door,
as her dad opens it and she jumps into his arms for a hug.
She wants to listen to a bedtime story and to fall asleep
As her dad barely finishes page three.

She was ignorant before today.
She thought she would live forever,
and that the people around her would live just as long.

She doesn’t talk like she used to,
but when she does, she is full of questions.

“Where is he now?”
“Will I ever get there?”

I never spoke to her about death before this morning
with tears running down my daughter’s face.
I guess I was ignorant too
because I never thought I would have to explain
death to someone who
just started living.

There once was time to sit and spin
The dream without, the light within
When young ideals like creed and rote
Would wreathe their blue tobacco smoke!

When wine was certain at each sip
When answers leapt at every lip,
Such were the days, when we all knew
If we were asked, what we would do.

But life began to call us in
And time, as such, has grown so thin,
We rush to do the things we must
While dreams, ideals, are things of dust.

And soon we turn our backs on them
Those shadows that were once young men
Who never dreamt hypocrisy
Would spill their dreams, philosophy;

And rule them with a rod of steel
And teach them well how not to feel,
And lead them blindly through their days –
They spare no thought for younger ways.

And where that dream, ideal, that once
Was held to spell deliverance?
Well we might ask, and well we might;
It’s life, not death, puts out the light!

David Lewis Paget

A wheel chair crushed my legs so now I'm in a wheel chair.