Meeting a duck

When one meets a duck, the protocol is serious business.


What to do when you meet a duck:

If you happen to have such luck

And you’re walking, not driving a truck

Please don’t act like a pompous schmuck.


Don’t be a complete ignoramus.

Don’t imitate Donald the famous.


Don’t ask them about their echo.

But rather what they think of the style art deco.


Or what’s their favorite holiday spot.

Is it somewhere cold or hot?


Don’t ask a thing about their favorite food.

You eat chicken, it’d be a bit rude.


Besides, the answer’s always some bug

You haven’t heard of, some slimy slug.


So you can’t say “I must have a taste.”

It never will go straight to your waist.


Ducks like music so you can ask about a band.

If they love hard rock or maybe soft sand.


You can ask about their very favorite hat

And if it’s wool of the naked mole rat.


You can also ask if their neighborhood’s nice.

If it’s shared by decent cats and mice.


You can share some freshly baked bread.

As long as there’s no sugar of lead.


Their feathers are soft but please don’t touch.

Even a gentle stroke can be a bit much.


We like handshakes but they do not,

Shaking a wing might get you into a mug shot.


Also, don’t comment on their feet being flat.

They hear it a lot and they don’t really like that.


This is the protocol for meeting a duck.

So if you do: Good luck and lots of pluck.


Skeleton Man

This one is about a dream.


Last night I had a dream and it was really fun.

I had climbed a tree with a pocketful of sun.

My hair felt like it weighed at least a ton

But I still got there, helped by a loved one.


Up in the branches I had a good time.

I had a ukulele and a twinkling chime.

I did some acrobatics and an amateur mime.

I tried to imitate a dog and a fresh, green lime.


I stared at the clouds for at least an hour.

Some of them pretty like sky’s own flower.

There was a sudden spout of a rain of flour.

It felt like taking a bread-designed shower.


I was a bit dusty but mostly just warm.

Then suddenly cleaned by a flour-bee swarm

So I was just warm, just the perfect form.

Then I saw an oncoming licorice stick storm.


I got a bit worried that I might get sticky.

My hand would be sweet, but a bit icky.

A surprise umbrella was offered, a real quickie.

I craned my head to see who, a bit tricky.


I saw a bony hand and a bony forearm.

A white, bony shoulder, a bit of an alarm.

A bony, smooth skull, smiling with charm.

A whole skeleton, bony, from a skeleton farm.


“I’m a skeleton man from skeleton land.

I climbed this tree with my skeleton hands

In my bony skeleton pants, unplanned.

Have my skeleton umbrella, open and fanned.”


I took the shade of the bony umbrella.

This Sherpa skeleton seemed like a nice fella.

He had clean ribs and a shiny patella.

He was looking for his skeleton Cinderella.


“I lost her in my skeleton castle.

It was quite the massive skeleton hassle.

She came all the way from skeleton Brazil.

With a skeleton dress and a skeleton tassel.


I saw the floor had her skeleton sandal.

I grabbed the nearest available skeleton candle.

Yanked the skeleton door’s bone handle

And ran after like a skeleton vandal.


I ran and ran on the skeleton roads.

I ran so much, almost skeleton loads.

I ran into skeleton frogs and toads.

They couldn’t help me, no skeleton codes.


I dove to the bottom of the skeleton sea.

With the bone plankton too small to see.

I scoured the skeleton desert’s fiery tree.

With bony flames that didn’t hurt me.

I consulted the bony skeleton queen bee.

In the bony hive of skeleton honey.

I found the skeleton giant and searched its knee.

Nobody there, he did bonily agree.


I didn’t find my skeletal bride

Even though I searched far and wide

But no matter, there’s places I haven’t tried.

And my skeleton legs have a long stride.”


The licorice stick shower had died away.

So he said bye with a skeletal “hey”.

He went down, the tree started to sway.

I fell down and woke up okay.


I wonder if the skeleton man.

Went through with his skeleton plan.

Stealth roller coasters

I bet you didn’t know these exist.


Have you heard of stealth roller coasters?

It’s as silent as a ninja-master toaster.

It comes up when you least expect.

Swoops you up and then, Eject!

Leaves you all startled and shocked.

Your tummy will feel like it’s been rocked.


You can avoid them if you’re prudent.

Listen to me and be a good student.


A stealth rollercoaster is quite the coward.

Two people make it feel overpowered.

So don’t stay alone, do take a friend:

It won’t attack in a shady dead end.


They also prowl near big cities.

And their growl resembles TV-ad ditties.

So stay away from lots of people

And places that have a tall steeple.


They rarely hunt under the sea.

You’ll be saved by a seaweed goatee.

They rarely stalk on a mountain

Or inside a drinking fountain.


They rarely take a rocket to space.

Or look for their prey in a flowery vase.

So these places are totally safe,

You won’t feel the fear start to chafe.


Another danger is the covert carousel.

But that’s a tale for tomorrow to tell.

By the way, that’ll be five bucks.

Or ten if you want the map, (it’s deluxe).

To be a swallow

This one’s about a swallow. (Psst, not really, it’s about people)


One sunny day in mid-July

When the air was crackling dry.

I looked at the birds swooping so high

And let out a loud depths-of-tummy sigh.


“I wish I could fly like that swallow.

I would never again have to wallow

In deep mud or even follow

Walking people with a step so hollow.”


My grandpa heard this and then he said.

“Everybody has things in their head

That they want so bad they can’t lie in bed.

And others have their own things instead.


Some simply want to play electric guitars.

Some want to build real fast cars.

Some want to ride an elk on Mars.

Some want to health-inspect shady bars.


Some just want to pet a gazelle.

Some want to lick the liberty bell.

Some want to run a candy cartel.

Some want to exhume William Tell.


Some want to ride the lightning to the sky.

Some want to skateboard in Shanghai.

Some want to be a 20’s private eye.

Some want to design a revolutionary tie.


Some just want to tame a hare.

Some want to sleep a night on Times Square.

Some want to outwit the dead Voltaire.

Some want to snuggle to a woolly polar bear.


Some want this and some want that.

Some get theirs and some fall flat.

There’s one thing, though, my little rat

That all of us want, my sweet, tiny gnat.


All of us want to love

And to be loved back.

That makes us all equal

My cute little yak.


Next time you see a grumpy old git.

They just want love in their mental tar pit.


This is the secret all of us share

No matter who or when or where.


Take it with you and keep it close by

And you’ll never wonder why.


This one’s about our good friend lightning.


What’s the most sociable thing in nature?

Is it a stone or is it a creature?

Stones do like to stick together

Sticking together despite bad weather.

Same goes for those moving furries.

Staying together helps their heat-worries.

Is there a thing that just can’t help

Having a party with a great big yelp

Every time it sees its friends

Either one or several tens?

I think water’s not quite it.

It does get together after its split

But it still doesn’t sing and skip

It doesn’t even hop or hip.

Snow’s not it either, I think.

After they’re born all they do is sink.

Sometimes they gather up in banks

But they never have a party in their ranks.

The one might be the one that goes boom.

The one that comes down with a quick, loud zoom.

The one that lights up the whole black sky

And takes the light away without even a bye.

Why lightning then, you might ask?

Well, because there is this one task

That it does because of too much fun.

And makes more noise than a good home run.

If a lighting strike finds your house

And travels the cables to your wireless mouse

It will break with a super loud crack

And the table it’s on will turn soot black.

What actually happens is on the inside.

I witnessed it, the whole sparky ride.

When the first one comes, it starts to shout.

It invites others as it’s the first scout.

More and more come and they all rush.

Soon it’s so packed, it’s a charged-up mush.

They tell too many friends, it’s always the same.

They burst out of the seams, out of the frame.

Their joy makes the bang and their feet leave the soot.

They escape to the sky as one fast foot.

One lightning party can break many things.

Their singing has many powerful wings.

This is why I think lightning’s the boss

In playing the build-a-party lacrosse.


Car Crash gnome

Until today, I wasn’t aware of these little things.


Have you met your car crash gnome?

Does it live in your car or your home?


Do you know what that little pest does?

Well, he goes buzz buzz and raises a fuss.


He might get in your kitchen and find your coffee.

He won’t touch the chocolate or toffee.


He’ll take the coffee and run far away.

Won’t bring it back any day anyway.


So when you need to be awake the most.

He’ll do the opposite by stealing your roast.


This’ll make your eyes close often.

But the tree beside the road won’t soften.


He might also hamper your mechanic.

Make him depressive instead of manic.


So when you need to break in a hurry.

It won’t work in that dangerous flurry.


He might make your lights not work.

So you can’t see the moose skulk and lurk.


He might go and sabotage the crash test dummy.

Make it too hard in its plastic tummy.


So it’ll hurt more when it’s a person.

This might just make your fate worsen.


He might also distract you when you drive.

Throw stuff on you, maybe a beehive.


Maybe open the door to startle you proper.

That’ll lead to a proper show stopper.


If you want to avoid the See See Gee,

My insurance’s got you covered to a tee.


Just a monthly payment, a tiny little fee.

And you won’t veer off into the quay.

Trust me on this, I know my gnomes.

I’m a veritable gnome Sherlock Holmes.


There’s always a silver lining, even on an assassinatory cloud.


My friend asked me and I was fascinated:

What’s the good side of being assassinated?


I thought for a sec and then got the joke:

They assassinate only famous folk.


So if you get shot by a mystery bullet

Get a deadly penetration in your gullet.


That just means you’re very well-known.

And now your brain is slightly blown.


I started to think about this thing.

What good do all the bad things bring?


What’s the good side of becoming dead?

Well, first of all, you don’t have to fret.


When you’re dead, there are no troubles

Because there’s nothing, no singles or doubles.


So when you’re dead, you ain’t got stress.

Doesn’t sound too bad, I profess.


What’s the good side of heartbreak?

Well, first of all, you can eat cake.


You don’t have to care; you’re in pain.

So stuff yourself with cookies and chow mein.


So when your heart breaks and you want to scream

Just fill yourself up with bowls of ice cream.


What’s the good side of snapping your back?

Well, first of all, your soles won’t turn black.


Paraplegics don’t dirty their feet

While walking barefoot on the dirty street.


So if your walk is taken away.

You don’t have to dance the foot-cleaning ballet.


What’s the good side of a friend dying?

Well, your art can be fueled by your crying.


You can paint, sing, dance or write.

While keeping your dear friend in your sight.


So if a friend dies and your mind is black.

Make it black on white and it will crack.


What’s the good side of your house burning down?

Well, first of all, you don’t have to clean it like a clown.


There’s no floor to wipe or windows to clean.

There’s no house bird whose feathers you must preen.


So if your house gets burninated.

You don’t have to do all the washing you hated.


What’s the good side of hard work going to waste?

Well, first of all, you can start again with a fresh taste.


There’s all the experience that makes it easy.

Everything goes smoothly, it’ll be a breezy.


So if a dear venture is destroyed

Starting again, old mistakes you’ll avoid.


It might not help people who are in a jam.

It might break their annoyance-dam.


But hear this, you can turn it less crappy

As seeing good sides makes people more happy.