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p-Ink Shades

A book is like a photograph,

stilling life eternal,

in page preserved,

through written word,

captured truths–but kernels…

With long-range pens,

and shutter reads,

the sum of facts collective,

of angle chosen,

moment frozen,

is viewpoint that’s subjective.

Telescopes & microscopes

Kaleid in scopes mosaic,

dynamic mix,

of words that click,

that magnifies prosaic.

Like Polaroids,

of time gone by,

cut & paste to montage…

The focus rests,

with authoress,

who captions ink collage.

Pretzels vs. Pringles

Life’s a party


…a party…

all that

and a bag of chips

(arranged festively with nearby dip)

but what about after–

–after the chips are cashed?

post hummus

do we get another go around, d’ya think?


contingent on chips that remain in the bowl?


fat-free, salt-free, and taste-free?


(buy one, get one million)


Well, it makes sense. Why would God bother making chips


from scratch?

Disbelieving of Time


He doesn’t like to mark∙it.

(add campaign)

–doesn’t like to count beans and

doesn’t like to throw His die∙it off


so it’s amazing some brands

small potatoes

. . .

merit shelf space

at all…

Holy Hitching Post, Batman!

the Penguin

married Poppins–

–and Batman: Dracula,

the one was due,

to shaded views,

the other


impaired by light

the Darkest Knight

went bats for pointed tooth…


Wonder Boy

went on to wed

–his Bread–

and what a wedding!

until the toast,

when guests disposed,

of bride with tasteless spreading…

(no big surprise)

since super-size

of bride begat baguetting


Mr. Freeze


feline sleaze,

–the woman known as Cat

but pose she struck

was frozen stuck

when ice-man dropped to knees,

a sculpture that–

–graced punch bowl at

the rites of fellow thieves…


the Ridd’lah next,

wrote witty text

for vows employed in lieu…

but lost his wife

who failed to cipher

words to say: “I do”…

no punchline sung,

from twisted tongue,

just teleprompted clues…


yes, Batman and

prime-time brigands

–had lives off TV set–

that packed a punch


(and stunned)

the Joker still on deck.

the total algorithim

She was from Facebook.

Facebook, California–

–a genuine, simulated fashion designer,

and I dug the newstream she ran in…

every group she belonged to rejecting

me as a member, and I liked that, too–

her every post

original, shared, or


. . .

penguin emogeeZ flawlessly executed

& ranch house in Farmville

where she summered


No philistine, either, she

captioned Monets,


petitioned polar ice


& uploaded



proof of:

2, 1, and 0

–a less than

3 heart.



I have fork-fed

my hungry eyes…

dilated and sated,

the tin·e pricks

left holes

from whence a

saline solution


purging me

of retch·ed


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