A waiter walked up to the table
Wearing a suit jacket that was far too small—
There was no way he could button it, and the
Sleeves came halfway up to his elbows
He sported a overlarge red bow tie
Black curly hair with oil in it, and
A large, obviously fake mustache
Which curled in waxed spirals at the ends.

“May I take your order, please?” he asked.

Before we could answer
A nude woman holding a pomegranate, with a
Bayoneted rifle slung over her shoulder
And flanked by two huge yellow and black tigers
Complained that she had been stung by a bee
And wanted her money back.

We sat for eleven minutes waiting
Then realized that ants were eating the silverware

He married some Sugar
The old coffee bean did
On a wild weekend in Mexico
Laying promiscuously with Vanilla
After binge drinking
Clear grain alcohol.

They had a love child
And they called her Kahlua
Which sounded far more Hawaiian
Than it did Spanish
But what did they know?
They were drunk.

She lets herself in
While I am asleep
It can’t be a sin
This secret we keep

While I am asleep
She snuggles in close
This secret we keep
Which I love the most

She snuggles in close
This girl who’s my missus
Which I love the most
I awake to her kisses

This girl who’s my misses
Her skin warm and soft
I awake to her kisses
It’s gone hot in this loft!

Igniting intense fires
This can’t be a sin
Fulfills my desires
She lets herself in

Woke up, got out of bed,
Logged in to see what email said.
Walked down the hall to get a cup,
And looking up, I noticed it was late.
Got my coat, and grabbed my keys,
Drove to the store to buy blank CDs.
While in line, found I was broke,
Someone told a joke, and I went into a dream…

I felt the muse today, oh boy.
One-thousand words I’ve got jotted down.
And though the words, they made me sad,
I just had to laugh…
They equaled one photograph.

   

Enthusiasm

Must be questioned if there is

Alcohol involved

 

 

   

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– Posted from my iPhone

Morning bright window curtains
Newly fallen sunlit snow
Oven is on, baking muffins
Pancakes are on the griddle

We sleepily exchange coffee-flavored kisses and smile.

 

This is an “ABC" poem.  According to some sources, this should be the equivalent to an Abecedarian poem, but according to other sources this should be a five line poem where the first four lines are made up of words, phrases, or clauses — each starting with a word that is in alphabetical order, much like the Abecedarian, but without having to begin with "A."

The fifth line is a complete sentence and can begin with any letter. The goal is to create a mood, feeling, or a vivid mental picture.

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