The POTW: Verse Til It Hurts
Max has been keeping some of his toys and rocks and things in the convenient pockets of my shorts. It got me thinking about how much of anything in our lives really belongs to us a hundred percent. Answer: not much.
What's Mine Is Ours
A little boy has found my pockets
And pricey shoes leave pricey tracks
Tendrils infiltrate my wallet
The only sacrosanct domain
Copyright © 2015 by Dave Grossman
Permanent link to this entry: http://www.phrenopolis.com/poem/index.php?p=881
The POTW has been on hiatus for a few years now, but you never know when I might pick it back up again. If you use a blog reader of some sort, you can add the poem to it using This Link. Or, if you like, you can have the POTW sent to you by email every week (it's FREE). With our high-tech automated system, all you have to do is send an email to subscribePOTW@phrenopolis.com from the mail account where you want to receive it, and we'll put you on the list. You will receive a confirmation by email, although it may take a while as the automated subscription process is quite complex and arcane. (You can see just exactly how complex and arcane it is by taking our guided tour.)
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Buy This Book:
Interested in more? Check out "Ode to the Stuff in the Sink," Dave's illustrated book of "guy" verse (concerning the deeper philosophies of things like not doing the laundry, putting your feet on the furniture, and of course beer) at the Maximegalomporium (our store). And did I mention it was illustrated? Pictures!
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Like any self-respecting citizen of the modern age, I use machinery.
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