Stumbling along the sidewalk

Oh, great and powerful
Bottle of bleach,
What reverence you instill
In the youngest of clothes washers!

Your sanctifying power
To clean the most soiled of garments,
Is unsurpassed by all other
Household substances.

Your glorious odor
Penetrates the strongest of nostrils.
It overwhelms
The smelliest of stains.

One drip of you in sink water
Can wash the nastiest of dishes.
Oh how I dread the thought
Of being a speck of dirt in your path!

I am loyal to you to the death.
I will never dream
Of doing laundry without you.
You are my salvation!

Thank you, bottle of bleach,
For your dedication to your task.
Your conviction and perseverance
Will follow me all the days of my life.

Oh, you magnificent treasure,
You ark of the covenant of appetite,
You holy well of sustenance and
Source of glutinous lust for cheap thrills!

Oh, to be you for only one day!
To feel the warm hands, full of reverence and preserving of sanctity,
Ushering me into a special place,

A rendezvous with my beloved,
Where I am caressed and kissed,
Licked to the bone with the sweetest
Of saliva, dripping from my lover’s tongue!

To be an object of craving,
To instill the peaks of excitement,
With my adoring supplicants
Yearning to the extreme for my presence!

To be worshipped with the most
Disgraceful of idolatry,
Stirring in the soul a passion
That provokes the most magnificent

Of athletic displays,
Searching in vain,
But with the hope of last hopes,
To woo, to seduce, to conquer.

Only you are worthy to be
The beautiful, perfectly round,
Sturdy and strong,
The most intimate of fellows.

Oh you, oh wonder,
Oh, cat bowl!

One day I was sitting in my car
At a stop light, and I noticed
That each and every person
On the face of the earth,

From the beginning of time,
Is unique.
We don’t look the same,
Or if we do,

We don’t talk the same,
Or if we do,
We don’t act the same,
Or if we do,

We don’t think the same.
Now, I realize that’s all debatable,
And, of course,
Subject to scientific study,

But don’t you think
It’s pretty amazing
How many different kinds
If people there are

On this earth?
I think it’s very cool.
Can that be an accident?
And, better yet,

Out of all those different people,
Isn’t it cool how, deep down,
We’re all pretty much the same?
I think it is very cool.

Jumping in, I hesitate,
Rocking back and forth,
On the edge of a cliff.
Finally, I leap!

Crashing to the bottom,
I hit with a thud,
Rolling over to a stop.
Carefully, I push myself up

Onto my hands and knees,
Feeling that my ankle
May be sprained.
“My luck,” I mutter to myself.

If only I had thought
To pack a parachute!
Jumping into the Grand Canyon
Can be a challenge sometimes.

I worry so much
If anyone cares.
I wonder if anyone
Will understand.

Will they appreciate me?
Do I really have talent,
Or am I fooling myself?
Such are the concerns

Of a wanna-be poet
Like me.

Jumping in, I hesitate,
Rocking back and forth,
On the edge of a cliff.
Finally, I leap!

Crashing to the bottom,
I hit with a thud,
Rolling over to a stop.
Carefully, I push myself up

Onto my hands and knees,
Feeling that my ankle
May be sprained.
“My luck,” I mutter to myself.

If only I had thought
To pack a parachute!
Jumping into the Grand Canyon
Can be a challenge sometimes.

I worry so much
If anyone cares.
I wonder if anyone
Will understand.

Will they appreciate me?
Do I really have talent,
Or am I fooling myself?
Such are the concerns

Of a wanna-be poet
Like me.