In America, we’re in a government shutdown–the longest we’ve experienced in our young nation’s history. With paychecks halted, FBI workers are lining up next to White House employees to get food distributions at Food Banks. Somebody pinch me. Surely this is fake news, right? No, you insist, it’s not? Well then. Double irony for $600, Alex, and pass the potatoes. This sure is a surreal way to bring in 2019. And sad.
This week’s theme is Terrible Managers. Join the fun at Chelsea Ann’s webpage and remember–the poem is supposed to be terrible. She’s serious about that and I’m actually trying to get worse.
My entry is below. Huzzah!
“Welcome to Day 19 of Blogmas 2018. This is Reginald Swinebottom presents and today we’re singing off key. Chelsea Owens is to blame once again so visit her page for the contest details. Add your glass shattering voice to the fray and lets see what depths we can descend to!
“And while you’re looking around, wondering how you got to this weird corner of the internet, click that subscribe button to join the Arcian family. Our goal is to get to 100 subscribers before the New Year. Ker-kaw!”
My entry for KaylaAnAuthor’s Summer Poetry contest. Click here for details on how to join in and to check out the other entries.
Thanks for reading.
Wander on over to Carrot Ranch for this week’s flash fiction and join us as we celebrate cranes–99 words, no more, no less. Cheers, all.
I’ve never liked when I come across a person who is so adamantly sure that animals–particularly dogs–don’t go to heaven. I listen to their explanation, or rather give the appearance of it, because I’m usually required to be polite while enduring intolerable situations. I nod along to their premises (ones I disagree with) and take out an umbrella to shelter myself from their dripping grey attitude. Drip, drip, drip…the beating of the umbrella fabric gives me something to count. On some occasions, I watch the speaker’s temper flicker and flare, catching their pants on fire. I find a fire bucket and quickly douse them, becoming a hero two-fold. I smile coyly and say “There now, everything’s alright. You’re all wet after all!” Continue reading “All Dogs Go to Heaven”