You are the analytic, puberty-stricken perv,

creepy, quirky, and quiet,

observing my awkward wood-spoon rockin’

in my apron and panties

from the back of my kitchen cabinet.

Such a weird one;

you hide just out of reach,

just in sight,

likening to my every intimate move.

But I don’t mind.

You help me with my homework-diet

of only a finger bowl’s worth of ice cream a night,

(not that there’s much of a difference in serving size there,

but any excuse will do)

so I suppose it’s not a sin

to reward you for letting me use you

for anything

but what you’re really there for.

After all, I’m not that classy,

and you seem to be okay with that –

you’re not so high-society yourself,

Mr. Peeping Wendell.


Well, I’ve finally got a snow day of progress on the blog! I’ve been so busy, every evening something going on, that I haven’t had the chance to write, except for the occasional poem on the way home in the car. (Thank the texting lords for voice-to-text buttons.) So first up is the sadly neglected Poem Challenge with drewster! His challenge for me after his wonderful poem to Sherman the Unmade Puzzle in a Box (see the comments on the original challenge to read it), he gave me Wendell the Finger Bowl. And what a bowl! Haha! Let me know what you think down below, as always. I’ll have another post for you (hopefully) tonight – a part 2 of my discussion on moral origins. Cheers all!


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