Type Dancing | Poetry, prose and rants
Description: Poetry, prose and rants
FISHING FOR ANSWERS By David Allen There’s a man I always see standing at the end of the pier when I take my lunch walk. He holds a long pole and occasionally casts the line into the bay. There's no bait on the hook. The creel at his feet is empty. Almost as empty as the look on his face. His eyes are fixed on the horizon. One day I asked him what he hoped to catch. Without a glance at me, he pulled his line out of the water and cast it back with a slight groan. “I’m fishing for answers,” he said. “I tried
Living Forever By David Allen I'm going to live forever. All I have to do is never take out the trash. Sound Weird? Well, I have it on good authority. One drunken night in New Orleans, lost and staggering through forgotten alleyways, my friend and I came upon a palm reader who charged two bucks to tell my future. “Well, here’s two bucks for you and…” “Five for the room?” she asked, smirking. I was stunned. “How did you know that was a line in one of my poems?” “I’m a seer,” she said. “Give me a hand.” She s
HAPPY HOLIDAZE By David Allen Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Kwanza, Hanukah, too, This is my holiday poem For you, you and you! Let’s remember this December Other reasons exist To wish a Festivus for the rest of us, No matter your bliss. And, speaking of bliss, This season marks when Buddha found his. Now, isn’t that Zen? And should we add Saturnalia To this season’s list? You see, that old Roman holiday Was the start of all this. For, one week in December The Romans gave a big bash Where everything was
Type Dancing | Poetry, prose and rants