Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

imgres-17A master of all awkward lines,
In party conversation,
Where it seems the more I talk the farther,
I stray from salvation.

Another backwards compliment,
I guess I should be shunned,
For not just saying “You look great!”
But “Where’d you get your work done?”

And then into an occupied,
Bathroom I did walk,
Without seeing the sign that said,
“Door doesn’t lock, please knock!”

And when I finally get my turn,
I look in the mirror with grief,
No one had been kind enough to point out,
I had spinach in my teeth.

But lest that went unnoticed,
While milling ’round the place,
I had the misfortune of backing into and shattering,
A very expensive vase.

And as the party guests quieted down,
And all were awkwardly staring,
With narrowed eyes and curled lips,
(Perhaps you’d call it glaring),

Maybe crickets should be cued in,
To fill this void I made so,
As I wonder in my mind,
“Should i stay or should i go?”

When I decide I’ll take this stupid,
Party for all it’s worth,
Clear my throat and inquire,
“I was told there’d be dessert…”

Jewish Guilt

Guess I was expecting it,
It finally came to pass,
When I was dropping my son off,
At his music class.
I bent down to kiss him,
When it became quite clear,
The boy had turned his head,
And I was now kissing air.

But I guess I could have foretold,
That soon would come the day,
He would become embarrassed,
By his mother’s PDA.
Although a little warning,
Might have been enough to please me,
I tell you there’s no way,
He’s gonna get off easy.

So I got to thinking,
That he might prefer,
Me to act in the following way,
The next time this occurs.
I’ll smush his chubby cheeks,
I’ll muss up his hair,
And if at all possible,
I’ll lift him in the air.

I’ll tell him to eat his vegetables,
I’ll tell him to behave,
I’ll say, “What if the next time you see your mother
She’s lying in her grave?!”
And as his cheeks are turning red,
And with heat start to burn,
I’ll grab a hold of his little head,
And I’ll hold it firm.

I’ll plant a juicy one on his nose,
And on his cheek another,
And maybe next time he’ll think twice before,
Refusing to kiss his mother.


The F Bomb

Kim, Michelle and me and Stef,
We swore we all were BFFs,
But then Kim got a boyfriend and it seemed for sure,
She didn’t want to be our friend no more.

And then Michelle started hanging out with Jenn,
So we never spoke to her again,
Which left me and good old Steffy,
But then I turned rock and she turned preppy.

And we drifted apart and so much has changed,
As we reunite on a Facebok page,
A cycle that has run complete,
With memories so bittersweet.

But I guess that now we all know best,
And probably should have left off that last F.





Road Trip!! (A True Story of Sisterly Love)

Just me and my girlie lookin’ for action,
Headin’ out to Cali from Manhattan,
It was New Year’s Day and we set out like truckers,
Packed the coatcheck, grabbed the tips and said, “See you suckers!”

8 long days driving through strange towns,
And it would have been 7 if we didn’t break down,
So we called our mother and said, “Hook us up!”
And a few hours later we were stylin’ in a Uhaul truck.

And I know the Scorpions said Arizona was a gas,
But not after hitting into a hotel’s overpass,
Sorry about the major interference,
But who knew the truck didn’t pass the clearance?

Checked in and let the cats out of their coop,
They decided it would be a good time to poop,
Packed up our stuff, moved back in the car,
And told them all we wrecked hotel rooms just like rock stars.

Then as luck would have it, wouldn’t you know,
Got back on the road when it started to snow,
So another set back before arriving,
Got a moving violation for erratic driving.

Causing all kinds of mayhem and drama,
Moving down the freeway like outlaw mamas,
Laying our heads wherever we roamed,
And the fuzz couldn’t catch us ‘cause we had no home.

Glad we saw the Hollywood Freeway cause after a while,
Got sick of eatin’ 7-11 like it was going out of style,
Takin’ a road trip it’s California or bust,
Cause Thelma and Louise got nothing on us!



The Evolution of A Mean Girl

Candy and Brandie sit in the corner,
They whisper and they giggle,
And who knows if they’ll say hello to me,
They really are so fickle.

And who knows what they talk about,
And who knows what they say,
But their facial expressions tell me,
“We don’t need anymore friends today.”

And if we were still in high school,
I might take this kind of poorly,
But it just seems a bit pathetic now,
That we are in our 40s.



Bored in a classroom
Writing their names in hearts
The cool girls
Lean over her desk
See her doodles
And laugh
And say, how could she?
Doesn’t she know
She’s ugly

Years later
She won’t remember his name
Or theirs
But only that
They thought
She was


Hot, Fast And Overdue

There will be no feeling weird
when it comes to our estrangement,
Please keep in mind this is
a temporary arrangement.

At the most 3 weeks
and then it is the end,
But if you are good
I’ll recommend you to my friends.

Must be funny, sexy, witty,
intelligent and hard,
And if you’re to my likings
I’ll give you my card.

And when it’s all over it’s possible
I may shed a tear,
But I’ll be seeing you no more,
let’s make that very clear.

I’ll have fondest memories of you,
you know that is the truth,
But I’ll never take you home again,
as you’ve outgrown your use.

And if I end up keeping you
a bit longer than I planned,
Only the librarian will know
what a naughty girl I am.



It’s Like, You Know…

My dear old mother used to say,
Try to do an act of kindness every day,
A good, old fashioned idea made easier,
By increased technology and social media.

For sending a text or an email through,
Is a low maintenance way to say, ‘I’m thinking of you,’
Without ever having to succumb to the pressure,
Of making a date to hang out together.

But probably the least taxing of all,
Is hitting a like button on the Facebook wall,
And an easy feat for you, yet the writer is agog,
By simply hitting ‘like’ at the bottom of their blog,
A mutually beneficial power of which you are endowed,
And what better place to start but here and now.


No Act Of Kindness Goes Unnoticed

While mowing the lawn the other day,
I thought I’d do a favor,
And give a little trim,
To the garden of my neighbor.

But rather than thanking me
My neighbor was on guard
And asked me what the hell I thought,
I was doing in his yard.

Regardless of my intentions,
He told me just to cease,
“Is my garden not looking good enough to you?
I’m calling the police!”

And though my first try was a failure,
I would not be beat,
When I attempted to help a little old lady,
Walk across the street.

She hit me with her purse,
And screamed at me to stop,
As all people whipped out their cell phones,
And proceeded to call the cops.

But onward with my mission,
When a little child I did spy,
Standing there all alone,
With tears coming from his eyes.

I asked him if he was lost or sad,
Or if there was anything he needed,
But along came his mother who said,
“Are you some kind of pervert? Beat it!!”

So off I ran as fast as I could,
But before it all was through,
I heard the sirens wailing for apparently she,
Had summoned the men in blue.

So if your looking to do a deed of kindness,
Some small act of charity,
I hope you won’t hesitate to donate,
To my legal fees.


Where Have All The Flowers Gone?

Where have all the flowers gone?”
My neighbor she did query,
But to ask such a question,
Perhaps she should be leery.

So used to always seeing those,
Fresh flowers in my house,
And never even knowing,
What they were all about.

For each time my husband wronged me,imgres
A new bouquet was given,
Which never served to improve my mood,
Or acknowledge all was forgiven.

And no matter their state of beauty,
I received them with a glower,
To think that he could buy me back,
With a simple bouquet of flowers.

And as time went on,
In a marriage that was faltering,
Never did he improve upon,
This very paltry offering.

A sad attempt to hide a state,
Of cheating, stealing and lying,
All represented in a bouquet,
Of flowers that lay dying.

Till one day at his pathetic gift,
I flew into a murderous rage,
And if you want to know where all the flowers have gone,
They’re lying on his grave.