Have you ever wished to win something wild?
Invite in the perfectly un-styled?

Just outside our door this morning
We found with brightest black and white adorning
A baby zebra, ripe and ready for adoring.

(Lion may be king but it doesn’t take much to convince
That zebra is the rather more dapper royal prince.)

We rushily ushered him in and tried
To feed him what the vet said, but the vet lied.
Zebras don’t like grass, ours went straight for the trash,
Merrily munching on mixed muck and moldy mash.
We took him for a trot and snuggled for a nap,
But he must have thought the bath a trap!
He lit us up with the most fantastic funk!

Baby zebra?! That’s a full-grown skunk!

Illustration by Hubert

I’m running out of heart to break.
Maybe you could take the rest?
I feel it might be best if I don’t feel.
The too cruel real wears me down and out.

Never hold a doubt that I am with you.
When you think you’re through and done,
When the worst finds fun in tearing you apart,
Know that I have heart to share.

Is it fair for me to thieve?

Please listen and believe what I say:
A loving heart at play with another
Hearty lover can only grow to more.

Then let the lovelies pour on the rout!

Casso grabbed her brush,
Tossed on a top hat,
Then ran off to rough up the flat.

She picked up her paint,
Gave it a good stir,
Then went to work in a blur.

Just looking at an office
You could feel her get inspired.
She thought – differences should meet
And you look awful tired,
Let’s paint you up in something sweet –
Then grabbed a mug of mint tea treat
And offered that office a refreshing drink,
Wiping away the doldrums stink.

The graveyard got a coat
Of lively marching bands.
The mayor can now gloat
Over heaps of helping hands.

She painted children with the Bering Sea,
The smell of flowers with the number 3,
And smeared the thought of stopping with glee.

Though far past just begun,
Casso’s goal never was, “I won!”
She rests in do instead of done.

This plays off of several of Robert Frost’s most famous poems.

We won’t await the wakeful, they only know to rise.
We’re slipping through the under in ways the wary wise
Can only but despise when paralyzed by open eyes.
I’ve seen many ends and am glad for my demise.

Feel whatever fear you like, nightmares must be met.
They bring fire and ice, to destroy must be nice, let them set
Themselves upon themselves so threat goes down to threat.
We have no use for emptiness and will not join in debt.

We push the storming star up the morning stair.
The day must dawn, but as for us the passing there
Is not quite wrong yet still seems to give a scare.
Whatever commonness we share with half-imagined frights –
We care.

Flying star, falling star, sing me to sleep.
When you touch down, when you hit ground, let me be deep
Down with you, sane and sound in slumber town counting sheep –
Lost lambs looking for the dreams of Little Bo Peep.

A is for awful. This homework is awful.
B is for a buse. I think it’s a buse.
C is for codslop. And so is this.
D is for drattery. And of as much use.
F is for fun. Is fun still a thing?
R is for arrrgh. This ain’t getting any better.
N is for no. No. No! Lovely, lovely no.
W is for … wait, what’s the next letter?
? is for every word I write?
! is for every word I write!
… is … for … huh …
😡 is for me in my plight.

No sweat.
That’s how I write the alphabet.
Not a better way, I bet.

There was a young person of June,
Who had pots of soup but no spoon;
He dunked his whole head,
To keep himself fed,
That straightforward young person of June.

There was a young lady of Phuket,
Who trained to sing like a cricket;
She chirped and she trilled,
But could only get billed
As a bird, that young lady of Phuket.

There was an old man of Manila,
Who only drank eggs and vanilla;
Add flour, sugar, and shake,
Then set aside to bake,
And you’d soon have a cake of Manila.

When I told Dad I was gonna be a cowgirl,
His face turned stern and he said, “Now, girl,
You’re far too smart for cows and campfires,
All set to join the bigwigs and highflyers,
So study, stand up straight and just wait.”

I paused.
Glanced at Fate.
Saw her trip in surprise
At the sight of my eyes
Then made like the sunrise
(That is, brilliantly headed west)
To meet whatever test
Might stand in the land
Of hungry sand
And jackalopes.
Offing all nopes.
Riding my hopes
Like the great stomping steed
That joined me in our agreed
Upon quest to be freed.

A 10 gallon hat for a 20 gallon head.
Tumbling along with the bumbleweeds.
A cactus pillow.  Rattle snakes for a bed.
Any critter with a hard-earned knack
For rooting out adventure’s track
Is welcome in our ragged pack.

Riding rings around myth,
I bring the wild, wild with.

When I told Mom I was gonna be a cowboy,
She smothered a smile and asked, “How, boy?
You’ve asthma and glasses and your best friends are books!
Your nightlight and teddies protect you from crooks!
How your mind leapt to cowboy, I’ll never know.”

With my own smile kicking, I gave it a go:
“My heart gave it a shove
And as my mind fell,
Heart leapt down from above
For friendship and, well,
Love might be the core
To maybe, just maybe, be something more.

When not shaving with cacti
I’ll have a beard full of prairie dogs,
Oh yes, I’m gonna be that guy –
Begrimed and gutsy.
New kinds of dusty.
With a desert scorching glare
And a devil scaring flare
For making the best
Of what’s not even there!
I’ll ride through the West
And on into myth!

Besides, the books and bears will come with.”

Drawn by WS

Stomp your toes and twist your nose.
Put on all your aunt’s old clothes.
Strike a lizard or crow pose,
Then follow where the Witcher goes.

Round the bend. Through Le Claq Lake.
Swim dreams until their dreamers wake.
Make your very best mistake
And plunge ahead before it’s fake.

The Witcher walks a wyrmy way.
If you’re to witch, you must obey.
She’ll take you where the poppies play,
You’ll want a pretty – Pick a stray.

Pop it! It’ll pop you back.
Back to never and right on track.
Beyond beyond, back to the crack
That marks No’s backward attack.

Fill it in with fearful cheer.
No must know why you are here.
And once all the can’ts are clear,
Welcome to witching, my dear.