“POEMS SHOULD RHYME”
Well, that’s the old way of doing things,
but I think I’ll stick with the new way
if it’s all the same to you, Fay. Oh, I’m sorry—
everyone, meet Fay, my poetry instructor.
When I was small she was my au pair,
until I fired her for preaching her radical
child-rearing philosophies in my presence.
After that whole mess, we got along real fine.
In fact, we became quite close as time
passed. We grew up together. In times past,
such friendships between caregivers and their charges
were frowned upon. Consider the case of the nursing home aide
in Argyle, Minnesota, who befriended an elderly resident
who had once worked for the CIA. State
secrets could have been divulged
in the heat of gin rummy. Luckily for our freedom,
they weren’t. Still, why take chances? Why
put yourself out there for all to take potshots at,
when learning how to bake would be a lot more fun?
Lately, this reporter’s been asking himself the same question.
Live Every Day Like It Begins With a Walk of Shame Press - Here are the intros from the last Bad Shadow Affair reading of the season: When I read Kathy Goodkin’s poems I feel like I’m a five year old in love with a...
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