I cut myself shaving
and ended up dead,
an unfortunate slip
cut off my head.
No time to worry –
no need to be brave,
Who knew it would end,
as I stood there to shave.
At my funeral friends gathered
some giggled, I’m told –
“He had a good life,
he was already old.”
Closed coffin it was,
as some thought it weird –
that half of my face
still had a beard.
Things mechanical
boggles my mind,
which way to tighten,
which to unwind?
Is it all under pressure,
is everything tight?
Does it flow to the left -
does it light up at night?
Will it move if I push it,
when it's done will it beep?
If I breathe the exhaust
will it put me to sleep?
Are there colors to choose from
or is purple the one?
Is this thing a trigger,
like I'd find on a gun?
And what of this button?
be sure to stand clear,
should anything happen...
If this were the only item left of our civilization, what
could be said of people?
They made things of wood and glass.
They kept secrets, so they closed doors.
They were not always up-front about things, so they frosted
the glass.
They establish barriers and boundaries.
Every other day he would spend a
good half hour polishing his shoes. He
would brush them clean, wipe them with a clean, dry cloth, and then meticulously
apply the polish. They always looked
perfect when he was done, except for the heals.
He never did the backs of his shoes because he never saw them when he
looked down. It was just the way he was.
His shop on Main Street was the
same way. He paid a local company to
wash the storefront windows once a week.
He had an expensive front door installed when he first purchased the
place and paid a professional to paint the lettering on the entrance. He even handpicked a sparkling glass doorknob. He felt it gave an old-fashioned look to the
place, like it had been there for years.
You could see him out front in
the early hours, sweeping the sidewalk and checking for litter. Then he would stand out in the street and just
smile at his storefront. It was always
perfect, at least the part he saw.
Anyone who wasn’t lucky enough to get one of the few parking spots had
to park along the side streets and walk back to Main. That’s when the heal of his shoe became
visible. The back of his shop that he always left unattended.
I hate to shave
don't want a beard,
not very brave -
all quite weird,
blades - so sharp
could cut the night,
playing harp
if not done right
shave creams cold
water's hot,
whiskers evil -
kind of plot,
day to day
just the same,
scrape away
then down the drain,
with me in charge
be just one beard
a jolly man
eight reindeer,
snow for Christmas
would be my pick,
jolly Santa
the only Nick.
Welcome to Zobostic Left 2
Write. I just saw your country on the
travel channel. Wow! I had no idea it was so impressive over
there. Around here is nothing at all
like anything over there. We do not have
amazing buildings, grand fountains or any kind of public transportation.
Most of the things you see on the
news about us are true. There are nut
jobs with guns, insane politicians, terrible roads, boring cars and
over-priced tennis shoes, which they now call running shoes. On a personal note, I have never seen them
run. I even tried on a pair in the
store, tied them onto my feet and nothing happened. I just sort of stood there. What a scam.
Anyway, because I have watched a
great number of you clicking on my blog, I thought I should pop in and say, “Hi.”
Thanks for reading my gibberish. I hope you appreciate the absence of advertising. I am not a fan of having ads pop-up all the time. It’s just annoying and doesn’t convince me to buy anything, especially scammy shoes.
Feel free to write back or leave comments on the posts.
Zobostic Corwin
There was light in the center of
the room, but not from a lamp, candle or flashlight. There didn’t appear to be a source. It was simply emanating from thin air. Not from a window or skylight, but just
glowing from nothing. I didn’t understand
how it was possible.
I will add to this post as I
figure it out.
(If I figure it out)
