Parental Advisory

Hear Ye. Hear Ye. Here we propose to posit prose poetry
forming a form of continuous connectivity,
to communicate considerable contemplative reflectivity.

Simply put, we pose this where
prose poetry is what you’ll hear
when wondering where the time went
while reading such rhyme wonderments
as oft are wrought, and revealed thusly,
each whit of wit written Hieronymously.

Fixed Values

Fear no fears, for fears are clearly 
for the fearful, not you. Nearly 
every severed hand-like Thing 
can Lurch at you. In Church we sing,
our missals whistle registering. 

Here, you'll hear me clearly report 
this: My gift for being the short-
winded one ended when you crossed my 
mind. I find I'm blinded by thy 
sight, so I write. Now you know why.

Shallow waters, shallow life. 
The shallows take away my strife. 
Mud bugs scurry. Minnows flash. 
A brackish tidal basin's cache 
of secrets keeps my mind confined 
to the shallows until I find 
reason, or seasoned crabs, shellfish 
so succulent, a local dish 
served steaming! It seems to me quite clear 
why I hold shallow thoughts dear: 

Crabbing waters, crabbing lines, 
crabby people paying fines 
and fees for these lines here, 
near my favorite, crabby peers.