Another lesson learned

Hi everyone,
David from 417 Magazine
Hacking and snorting, I’m back. Thanks to all for your good wishes and suggestions yesterday, and to you, Pat Hermes, for putting my mind at rest that the world would spin on while I was taking a time out. I didn’t believe you. But once again I put that old science background to the test. I checked the clock when I made my announcement and checked it again late in the day. Astonishingly, time had moved on while I was having a pity party on the living room sofa. Pat, you’re scary good.


11 comments on “Another lesson learned

  1. Pity Party for Old Smarty

    He clings to the sofa,
    a survivor on a raft
    of wheezes, each sneeze
    threatening to overwhelm
    his fragile ship.
    He thinks the world
    counts each tremblor>
    But with a uncertain surprise
    discovers as he crawls
    up to pee:
    “The world
    goes on
    despite the snot of me.”


    • Though It May Burn, Sometimes We Learn

      Who knew
      I wasn’t the center of
      The universe?

      Who knew
      I didn’t stand at
      Center stage?

      Who knew
      I didn’t tilt thing much
      For better or worse?

      Who knew
      The world could do just fine
      With one less sage?

      Truth is,
      I liked that little loafa.
      Truth is,
      I really loved that sofa.


  2. I am the Scenter of the World

    I am the Scenter of the world,
    The perfume of desire.
    You may be wood and wooden, sir,
    But ME, I am the fire.

    You may be tall (clue–I am not)
    And quite a sight to see.
    The center of your little world,
    My scenter–well, it’s ME!

    You may be swell, I think you smell,
    You stand to take a leak-a.
    And if you reek, well, let me ‘splain,
    It’s I who am Eureka!

    Punnily yours,


    • And So It Goes

      And so it goes from snotty nose
      To robe too soiled to mention,
      Each of us with little fuss
      Commands the world’s attention.

      The word is out and while I pout
      I blame it on Wikileaka,
      But I can smell and still be swell,
      And you’ll always be Eureka!

      With thanks back to you, Jane.

  3. Eureka

    Eureka this,
    Trump reekas that,
    A day we will

    Until our favorite
    Is halfway to

    Dismember this,
    that member gone,
    We hardy can
    recount now

    Eureka moments
    of our past,
    or this vote’s true
    amount now.

    And when four years
    are finally up,
    they look around
    to seek ya’.

    You’ll be living
    on a sofa
    I, a Scot–


    • Poems from the Sofa

      It’s not a bad idea I think
      To take to the sofa.
      I’ll shake this cold so I won’t stink
      But stay on the sofa.
      The world may change and well it might
      While I’m on the sofa
      But I’ll still think and work and write
      Poems from the sofa.


  4. David–you thought I’d forgotten politics?
    I am not that person!!! xxxJane

    A Sofa Poem

    The world looks livable from there,
    warm surrounds, pillows,
    kleenex box within reach,
    a novel of convenience, tv remote,
    willing wife to bring in the next cup
    and then the next.

    Those of us without wives,
    novels, tissue, tv, sofa,
    will have to drown
    in snot and tears
    deep and long
    as the immigrant ocean,
    watching our children
    drown in inches
    while the inauguration
    merry band of brothers
    plays on.

    ©2017 Jane Yolen all rights reserved

    • I know, dear Jane, you’d never forget
      Nor fail to note the earthquake jolt in
      I merely mean no matter what
      I sometimes need a timeout spot
      To lick my wounds from what I’ve got from

      From the womb I never cared for
      My parents canceled each other’s vote in
      I share your fear of what might come
      If Tweedle-Don is tweedle-dumb,
      But now my brain is weary from


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