Yard Sale Bully

On early weekend mornings she comes searching around town
But perhaps you knew that when you laid your blanket down
On high alert she smells and seeks and swoops down without fail
On her unwitting prey those choosing to have a yard sale

She may intimidate you as she eyes your table mats
And tells you grandma’s antique tea set really ain’t all that
Calls it an imitation says the quality’s just schlock
And that she bought a nicer one for 3 bucks down the block

Or she might work your sympathy as she moves for the kill
And offer you a crumpled up and taped one dollar bill
Would you be so kind to take it for that old crock pot?
Unfortunately it seems that dollar bill is all she’s got

And then she asks for you to throw in more random detritus
A mirror, an unopened tube of cream to sooth arthritis
And a box of crackers that it seems you never ate
Some pool toys that you never even bothered to inflate

And before you know it she goes limping down the lawn
With your finest jewelry, comic books and your first born
In fact it seems this woman fought and bargained pretty hard
When she asked if yard sale meant you were selling your yard

You don’t know whether you should be more outraged or inspired
As it comes to dawn on you exactly what transpired
She takes her new acquired goods, yours from days of yon
And spreads them out on what now does appear to be her lawn
Horrified you see she takes the contents of your closet
And quickly sells them off at considerable profit

I’ve been wanting to write a poem about a yard sale for quite some time but don’t think this would have seen the light of day without inspiration from the lovely Stephanie at Once Upon Your Prime.¬†Thanks to a woman who knows what having a yard sale is really all about.

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An Open Letter To The Jumper On the 5 South

If I had seen you on the overpass prepared to jump
Onto the freeway hoping you would end a lifeless lump
I’d try my best to tell you you had everything and more
The world just waiting at your feet and ready to explore

But if you just had let me know your mind was fully made
I’d choose another path and choice and so try to dissuade
For wine is fine and whiskey quicker, and a lot less painless
Bathtubs, razor blades and rope would be a lot less heinous

But if this was the way you chose for your final achievement
Let’s postpone from rush hour to a time much more convenient
For we’d all be more sympathetic to your pain and your hurt
If you didn’t make thousands of people late for work.

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