Friday, September 30, 2011

Weekly Worded

The Accountant and Daniel Webster

    “Don’t you ever balance your checkbook?”
    “I’m not an acrobat.”
    “How do you know if your check bounces?”
    “I always hear some kind of twang.”
    “Your problem is that you’re not fiscally responsible.”
    “That’s why I hired you.”
    “I can’t help if you don’t take your finances seriously.”
    “But I do, I spend what I make.”
    “This credit card statement says you spend more than you make.”
    “I spend, therefore I am.”
    “Debt is no kind of existence.”
    “That’s what the guy on the phone said.”
    “What else did this guy say?”
    “He laughed, a whuh-ha-ha kind of laugh.”
    “He sounds evil.  Did your soul come up in the conversation?”
    ”He said hire an accountant or he’d haul my assets in court.”
    “Just to be clear, are you sure he didn’t say ‘haul your ass into count‘?”
    “I’m not sure, he lisped.”
    “Then either way he threatened your booty with judicial penury.”
    “Is that bad?”
    “It’s a lot less dangerous than theology.”
    “So can you fix this for me?”
    “Any strong feelings about your soul?”
    “Only if it’s worth something.”
    “Oh, at this point I’d say it’s your only asset.”

Friday, September 23, 2011

Weekly Worded

Nomads In America

    “Driving a huge rig like that can’t be a holiday.”
    “It’s not a vacation, it’s our home.”  
    “You live in there?”  
    “Sold our traditional house a year ago, now the road is our home.”
    “What’s in that enclosed trailer you’re towing behind the RV?”
    “That’s our garage.  We store our ATVs, lawn chairs, barbecue, tools, other stuff.”
    “So what’s up with the jeep attached behind the trailer?”
    “It doesn’t fit in the garage.”
    “And the boat strapped on top of the jeep?”
    “The fruit of downsizing.”
    “What about mileage?”
    “Oh, we don’t keep track of that.  We move as the spirit moves us.”
    “You can’t be moving very fast.”
    “Rushing about is no longer our way of life.”
    “And those bicycles, I’d stay awake worrying they’d get stolen.”
    “We hide them under the boat at night.”
    “I’d better let you go.  A few cars have gathered behind you.”
    “Not to worry.  It’s just the kids wondering where we’ll be stopping tonight.”
    “Your kids still live with you?”
    “Not all the time.  If we catch a good tailwind, it could be a couple days before they find us.”

Friday, September 16, 2011

Weekly Worded

Back To School Across America

By now a number two shaded dusk
has settled across California.

Redwoods leaning toward the ocean
cast immense shadows
like a million Ticonderoga pencils

assigned an hour of homework
after a listless summer vacation.

On the east coast it’s already
too late to get started,
good intentions fast asleep,

lulled by a melodious surf 
as it erases every shoreline.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Weekly Worded


The trouble with cows is
they’re really no trouble.
Such perfect neighbors
along our shared fence,
peaceful except when the moon
chases them at night.

They follow me along the wire
when I’m mowing,
the smell of fresh cut grass
like an invitation.
Their pasture is sufficient
all spring, summer, fall,

their forage ample all winter.
When I stare out my window,
eventually clouds appear
to me no different than cows
crowded together in the shade
of their sublime ruminations.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Weekly Worded

Adjective Deficit Disorder

    “My son has no idea what an adjective is.”
    “That’s not unusual for a fifth grader.”
    “But he doesn’t want to know.”
    “That’s not so strange either.  Even adults hate grammar.”
    “How will he ever be able to describe what’s going on inside of him?”
    “Adjectives aren’t the only parts of speech that describe.”
    “I have a confession.”
    “I know, you’re not sure what an adjective is either.”
    “It’s a genetic flaw.  Not even my parents had a clue.”
    “Relax.  Millions of people lead full and happy lives without knowing.”
    “Do you think if I study up and start using them my son will get interested?”
    “You’ve already been using them.”
    “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
    “No apology necessary.”
    “Apology.  That’s an adjective, isn’t it?”
    “No, apology is a noun, but sorry is an adjective.”
    “How can sorry be an adjective when it’s an apology?”
    “The labyrinths of grammar are complicated.”
    “What’s a labyrinths?”
    “Labyrinth is a noun, labyrinths is the plural form of the noun.”
    “I feel so stupid.”
    “Stupid is an adjective.”
    “Oh, well then I feel so adjective.”
    “Actually, the word adjective is a noun.  It can’t be used as an adjective.”
    “Is there a pill I can take to help me pay attention?”
    “Grammar itself is a pill.”
    “I took it, but I never passed it.”
    “It takes a long time to digest.”