Tag Archives: rule

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Rules

On each new site we read the rules anew.
Check that we are not a bot and real.
Check that we will not link to porn or views
traumatic, that we promise not to steal
others work or game or avatar. Why is it
that in each site of any and every ilk,
someone has to watch and delete the bit
where the rules are broken, spilling milk.
The truth is we’ve learned how to behave
or rebel in neglected or violent homes.
I wonder if humans should be saved
when again the trolls must be stoned.
We think that humans should dwell on Mars.
We’ll need rules and moderators in the stars.

Sonnet 12

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sending flowers

I was “separated” from a website for “not explicitly breaking the rules”. Hey, it’s a “woke” website and wow, I guess I was annoying, or the editors are insane, or something. The eds who had become friends over the years didn’t know a thing about it. The owner removed me.

Now I am removing every reference to that site from my blog, over time.

So here is a poem from a week ago, to “honor” the insane editors. I do think they need to vet them a little better, heh. But if the owner doesn’t mind the site imploding and dying, hey, he has chosen the best editors for the job.

______________________

Eeeeeeeeeew eww

eeeeeeeew eww
I’m annoyed at you
don’t you see you’re inconveniencing me?
don’t you see you shoot yourself in the knee?
don’t you see choices so dumb I could scream?
don’t you see
you’re destroying the dream

eeeeeeeew too
I’m so annoyed at you
but I’ll forgive you your sins
after I stick you with pins
and laugh many many grins
you’re sent to bed without dins

eeeeeeeeew too
I’m so annoyed at you
but I don’t really care
I think it’s totally fair
that you’re dissolving out there
in the cloud unaware
and no one else cares

eeeeeeeeew too
don’t cry a boohooo
you reap what you sow
I won’t cry when you go
sad to see you sunk so low
advertisment ho
drunk funked skunked bro
yeah, ed, he don’t know
sentimental slop woe
stinking slow to grow

eeeeeeeeew too
is yo owner a ghoul?
I think you raised up some fools
I mourn the loss of some jewels
when sad stupidity rules
some eds is fool mules
I carve yo gravestone with tools

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Break your own rules

If I say “Food fight.” you may think of Animal House.

I think of my mother.

I am in high school in Alexandria, Virginia. My sister is three years younger. We are in the kitchen, it is hot. 99 degrees F and 98 percent humidity and the back door is open. We do not have air conditioning. We are eating watermelon. The old kind: with seeds.

My mother holds up a seed, pinched between her fingers, looking wicked.

My eyes narrow. “If you shoot that, you started it.” …. not in the house, is the unspoken rule that echoes.

She shoots it at me.

We all three start pinching the slick black watermelon pits at each other, laughing like hyenas. In a large kitchen with open shelves and dishes placed on all the shelves, often nested. It devolves into small chunks of watermelon, hurled at each other. No rinds, because of the open shelves. At last we all run out of pits and watermelon and stopped

There is silence while we survey the very impressive mess. There are watermelon seeds everywhere. And the floor is pretty wet.

Watermelon is STICKY.

We laugh more and start cleaning up. I leave for work or school or something.

Later my mother says, “I washed the floor three times before it stopped feeling sticky. And I kept finding watermelon seeds in the dishes on the shelves for the next two years.”

And: “It was worth it.”

The photograph is of my mother in high school.