Squeeze Play at the Bottom of the Ninth

Oh Doc if only 

I had the strength to show 

The uniformly moved 

There’s not enough power left 

In these sinews 

To delight them, 

Would they settle 

For my laying down 

A perfect bunt? 

Wild Cyclamen Mode

Heads up though 

Seeing such impossible 

Flowers spring up everywhere 

May not always tend 

To elate one 

Let alone 

Make one feel as they say 

In the pink but oh 

Such mixed blessings 

Should they not 

Then give one pause 

To think? 

The Nympho Muse's Classic Ruse

So you think the trick’s in 

Playing it straight 

And narrow, eh? 

Well, come again, Mr. 

Prim and proper one shot— 

That wild Parian would 

Shaft me widely from every angle 

And with a twisted, wicked slant.

VAZAMBAM EXCLUSIVE: DUTCH TOURIST DISCOVERS NEW ENTRANCE TO HADES!

In lieu of my usual poetic fare, I want to promote this exclusive once-in-a-lifetime photo taken only yesterday on one of the side streets of Meligalas only a few feet from the town’s main thoroughfare. With one foot on a ladder (which the local authorities presumably used as a warning marker) and with the promise of hitherto unimagined heights of elation awaiting him, we can see the tourist in question proudly showing off his discovery; unfortunately, before he could return with the proper spelunking gear, he found the entrance hermetically sealed by these same authorities who perhaps suddenly became wary of the adverse odoriferous publicity that would run rampant were the area to be overrun by tourists flocking to see a tributary of the effluent Styx flowing mellifluously under their feet. 

By the way, I think it highly poetic and fitting that this intrepid discoverer should hail from one of Europe’s Low Countries.

Ionian

white 

pebbles

in

the

sun

the

sea

run

ning

all

the

blue

in

the

world

and

then

some

Frame of Reference

Lay your burden down, brother— 

I’m sure you’ve heard this one before 

And I don’t want to sound irreverent 

Or flippant but isn’t it a bit incongruous? 

I mean, we’ve been lugging 

Our frames around for ages 

And we still don’t know where 

The big picture is. 

Metaphysical Iris

Sense! 

You keep after me saying it’s merely 

A matter of sense but in what sense 

Shall you stalk me in my absence?