Poems
by Tony
Dawson
Queen of the Condo
The peroxide blonde divorcee
of uncertain age who’s not yet
thrown in the towel, dresses
to show off her hourglass figure
that hovers around half-past six:
she’s a siren above the waist
but a skittish mare below,
with the stubbiest of fetlocks.
She is still pretty enough
to attract a handsome young man,
who gives the impression of being
a friend with benefits to judge
from the frequency of his visits.
There’s not much doubt that she’s
got what it takes to take what he’s got.
He’s also domesticated enough to do
the shopping and walk the dog.
He has his feet firmly under the table.
Supernova
James
Dean
lived fast
and died young.
East of Eden is
the resting place of this Rebel.
Purr
Cats
are
better
than most dogs.
because cats are clean.
After all, their turds are interred.
Mad
Trump
an
Orange
man baby
on the road to hell.
Let’s hope he arrives very soon.
Compromise
I
love
you both.
Why can’t we
alternate the times
we spend together? Could be fun.
Ode to my Bank Account
I
love
my bank
account when
it is in the black,
which, however, is not often
Guns Galore
They
have
plenty
of firearms
but such poor marksmen
that the target is still standing.
Accident
Car
meet
pear tree.
Steering wheel
meet chest and soul meet
the Grim Reaper, ever ready.
Bone Head
I
found
this skull.
It looks like
an incognito
Yorick grinning about Hamlet.
Gender
When
one
AMAB
meets someone
who is one AFAB,
who knows what they will get up to?
