(Photo of Phil Huffy)
And then came the last of the Beetles!
Indeed, sales constantly slowed.
The newspapers cleverly said it
in proclaiming the end of the road.
I had one, you know, and remember
the feel of its primitive seat
and challenges faced in the summer
to turn off the blasted thing’s heat.
And as for advancement of romance,
at drive-ins or other locales,
I’d venture to blame its compactness
on the dearth of amenable gals.
My neighbor now harbors a Beetle.
I think it's a ’73.
I’ve thought about making an offer –
ten bucks and my old SUV.
Evil bagels team with knives
and hands and palms and digits pay.
This deadly combination lurks
to torment unsuspecting prey.
Basement stairs and burned out lamps
await missteps and hear the cries,
as ankles yield and tendons twist
and bundled laundry falls or flies.
Snow colludes with winter tools
to anguish sedentary hearts
and widows sip their tea alone
as shadows creep and day departs.
first published by Lighten Up Online
He ran from her
like a dog from a blender.
The shrill frequency
and inescapable volume
from which there
would be no respite.
All that remained
was to express his regrets
in a sensible
and unoffending way,
so as discourage repercussions.
first published by Raw Dog Press
Two Malteses were sniffing near a daisy.
The daisy hoped that help was on the way,
They spun around, however, and kept going
and the flower lived to bloom another day.
As they sauntered, there soon appeared rabbit.
(Some other dogs might carry on a bit.)
But those two scamps just didn't seem to notice;
if they did, in fact, they hardly cared a whit
As their owner advanced upon her charges
she clapped her hands and sternly called “now stay!”
The first Maltese remarked unto his brother,
“On the count of three, allez, allez, allez!”
© Phil Huffy
Bio: Phil Huffy writes away at his little desk in upstate, New York. He is well represented in print and online.