Letter from Bigfoot

Dear cousin in the city,
I write to give sad news.
I’m moving up to Canada,
but you can have my shoes.

These long commutes are killing me,
and I never see my daughter.
My wife is porking a yeti,
And there’s something in the water.

So I’m heading for the Yukon,
gonna make a whole new start.
I’ll have fresh fish for breakfast,
and no one to gripe when I fart.

Fondly,

Biggie

(Jan. 27, 2006)

Hot and Nasty

Journey now where nobodies go
to drink and to be base.
Take a trip to the underworld,
where each is a sad case.
The lure is dark and cheap as sin,
and once you’re in, you stay.
Come with me now to the coffee break,
where wicked thoughts hold sway.

(Jan. 20, 2006)

Little Wonder

Little wonder, flesh and bone,
growing in your mother.
Little difference separates
one child from any other.
Countless creatures, countless times,
have been born before you.
Little wonder you should appear.
Little wonder, we adore you.

(Jan. 13, 2006)

Coffee, No, Tea!

Dried brown beans, ground and brewed.
Is there any finer food
for brains that have been humbly working?
Keep that jazzy java perking

WE INTERRUPT THIS COFFEE POEM TO BRING YOU A MESSAGE FROM THE TEA INSURGENCY.

The tea bush waited eons
for man to learn its value.
The Buddha first discovered tea,
the cure for what may ail you.

Four thousand years of tea time
have flowed as from a kettle.
The precious steaming beverage
once showed America’s mettle.

Now ever since the Boston party,
coffee has held sway.
But we, the tea iconoclasts,
demand to have our way!

So put down that espresso
and have a proper drink!
And if you would resist us,
well, have another think!

(Dec. 16, 2005)

A Modest Secular Proposal

I’ve had enough of Christmas cheer.
It seems to take up half the year.
The “tiny baby Jesus” thing
has ceased to be so happening.

Besides, the “Merry Christmas” greeting,
which makes each day a prayer meeting,
leaves out all the Muslims, Jews,
and sects of many other hues.

And “Happy Holidays” is out,
since “holy day” sounds too devout.
So I propose a substitute,
a cozy wintertime salute.

“Season’s Greetings” is too tame,
and “Winter Hi” sounds rather lame.
The phrase I think we ought to say
is “Happy F***ing Freezing Day.”

(Dec. 9, 2005)

Coffee Wish

When you wish upon a cup,
you will find things looking up.
Sniff that aromatic steam,
and you can start to live your dream.
Sip the rich and earthy brew;
your mind will brighten up anew.

There’s no magic in the mug
to give your sagging soul a tug.
No chemical can tame the blues.
Caffeine alone cannot infuse.
The break is what your heart so craves,
a fleeting respite for wage slaves.

(Dec. 2, 2005)

Dying Words

Bury me where the coffee grows,
where beans are aromatic,
where gentle hands pluck tender fruit,
where life is but ecstatic.

For I must go to rest now,
a lengthy nap to take:
Yes, I shall be forevermore
on my coffee break.

(Nov. 18, 2005)

The Poet's Plight, Part I

My pencil is broken, my typewriter’s rusted,
my pen is dry, and my keyboard’s busted.
My muse still makes a loud demand,
so I write poems in the sand.
I drag a stick to form each word.
I know my song will go unheard.
But inspiration must be heeded,
even when the work’s unneeded.

(Oct. 21, 2005)

The God of Editors

High above the mountaintops,
upon a cumulus cloud
there lies the God of Editors,
once beautiful and proud.

With his flowing Holy Quill
he flooded white with red.
The mighty god Correctus
for others’ sins has bled.

What power in the cosmos
could challenge such as he?
What wretched writer of wrongs
could test his mastery?

Darkness from the northeast came
as if it were the plume
of noxious, black, and searing smoke
that brought the lizards doom.

No meteor from deepest space
wrought havoc on that day.
‘Twas but a lowly freelancer
that we still had to pay.

(Oct. 7, 2005)

Fairy Friday

High up in the sky between
the sun and the moon,
there dwells a fairy princess,
and her name is Clair DeLune.
She twinkles like a star
as she sprinkles fairy dust,
and when her work is finished,
she does what we all must:
She flaps her tiny wings and
gently floats to earth
and she opens up a bottle
and drinks for all she's worth.

(Sept. 23, 2005)

It Must Be Fall

I think about the friends I had
I only saw at school,
the ones from distant neighborhoods
who made me almost cool.

Each summertime I'd part with them,
the friendships put on hold,
and every fall I'd wonder if
we'd take up as of old.

And one year the fall would come
and things were not the same.
We knew each other's face and voice,
but not each other's name.

The story played out many times,
but I must learn again
that branches start together,
then they grow apart and end.

(Sept. 16, 2005)

Prenatal Jones

Nestled snugly in the womb,
a tiny human gestates.
Her nascent brain cannot imagine
what new world awaits.

But if somehow the little eyes
could see what its mom sees,
then when the babe emerged, she'd say,
"I'd like some coffee, please."

(Aug. 12, 2005)

Long Live the King!

Behold the mighty monarch,
resplendent in his tower.
Within the jeweled chamber,
he cultivates his power.

The millions of his minions,
enslaved by their own choice,
lift their faces every morn
and sing as with one voice:

"O wise and wondrous master,
we bring you tribute gladly,
that you might kindly grace us with
the guidance we need badly."

And with this supplication,
all bow and wait in silence.
High above, His Majesty
laughs in his omnipotence.

"You are my faithful subjects!"
he calls to them with glee.
"Now lift your cups up to your lips
and take a drink of me!"

Then every man and woman
becomes a prince or queen,
empowered by their ruler,
beloved King Caffeine.

(July 22, 2005)

#26

When we were young, we never tired.
Brown liquid youth, make us inspired.

(Jan. 31, 2006)

#25

If coffee is as coffee does,
then what it is is what it was.
If sense is what that seems to make,
then you may need a coffee break.

(Jan. 24, 2006)

#24

Life excites but when it bores.
That’s the way the coffee pours.

(Jan. 17, 2006)

#23

If you could say a magic word
and be transformed in a flash,
that magic word just might be coffee,
for it can make you dash.

(Dec. 20, 2005)

#22

If coffee were a person,
would she be rich and warm?
Or would he be all bitter,
stale, in need of some reform?

(Dec. 13, 2005)

#21

There may not be a Fountain of Youth,
no Grail to keep you alive,
but have a cup of the hot brown stuff
and you just might last until five.

(Dec. 6, 2006)

#20

Coffee time is here again,
And though it’s cold and windy,
I urge you all to step outside
and do the Lindy.

(Nov. 29, 2005)

#19

My throat is sore.
My nose is full.
It’s coffee time
and that’s no bull.

(Nov. 15, 2005)

#18

When it’s soft, turn up the volume.
When it’s cold, turn up the heat.
When it’s slow, turn up the tempo.
When it’s three, turn up and meet.

(Nov. 1, 2005)

#17

The clock shows a right angle.
It must be three or nine.
Good times for a coffee break.
So now I’m taking mine.

(Geometric pedants may point out the other times of day at which clock hands are at right angles—bearing in mind that 3:30 and 9:30 etc. aren't true right angles.)

(Oct. 25, 2005)

#16

Brain is . . . sluggish . . .
Eyelids . . . heavy . . .
To the kitchen
for a bevy!

(Oct. 18, 2005)

#15

If I were made of money,
and not of bone and meat,
then I would have no need of
a diurnal java treat.

(Oct. 11, 2005)

#14

decaffeinated coffee
nondairy creamer
sugar-free sweetener
imaginary friends

(Oct. 4, 2005)

#13

Birds are known for flying high,
and fish are known for swimming.
Trees are known for growing tall,
and coffee's known for brimming.

(Sept. 27, 2005)

#12

Scalding, tasteless torture
or lukewarm, stale, and bitter,
decaffeinated coffee's like
a pole without a stripper.

(Sept. 20, 2005)

#11

When coffee time approaches,
you know one thing is sure:
The kitchen conversation
will be witty and demure.

(Sept. 13, 2005)

#10

If rain was coffee from the sky,
then all the girls and fellas
would go outside in showers holding
upside-down umbrellas.

(Aug. 30, 2005)

#9

As we're skipping to our doom,
let's avoid excessive gloom,
but gather in the ol' break room
where everybody may consume.

(Aug. 23, 2005)

#8

There comes a time each afternoon
when editors must rise
up from the stacks of inky drafts
and drink the drink of the wise.

(Aug. 9, 2005)

#7

Planet Xena, lonely orb
circling the distant sun.
What you need's a steaming cup,
and you aren't the only one.

(Aug. 2, 2005)

#6

Coffee drinkers sing this song:
Doo dah, doo dah.
Coffee break is fifteen minutes long.
Oh, doo dah day.

Gonna work all night.
Gonna work all day.
I bet my freelancer's worse than yours.
Oh, doo dah day.

(July 26, 2005)

#5

Once upon a coffee break,
I poured a steaming cup.
And by the time it had cooled down,
the breaking time was up.

(July 12, 2005)

#4

Twinkle, twinkle, little cup,
how I long to fill you up,
give myself a caffeine high,
like an anti-lullaby.

(June 28, 2005)

#3

Time to give your head a break
if your work has made it ache.
Let the coffee do the talking,
and let Dokken do the rocking.

(June 21, 2005)

#2

If you could take a coffeepot
and brew some on the moon,
would you be called an astronaut,
or just some kind of loon?

(June 14, 2005)

#1

There was a man who had a mug
and Bingo was its name-o.
And everywhere that Bingo went,
its owner also came-o.

(June 7, 2005)