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
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!