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?

 

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