.

You first.

Roses are red,
 violets are bluish;
If it wasn't for יאָשקע,
 we'd all be Jewish.

He wore a kipah as he consumed the controversial goods in public,
Oh, so good-- just like winning a limbo contest at a bar mitzvah.

She didn't know what to do- some veggies or pepperoni,
Much better than mashed potatoes, but that can't be a topping.

Pick and choose, it's the way of the world,
Not exclusive to one group or another.

Stopped on the turnpike to grab a soda and mincha,
Whew, no one saw me- this time.

Thank H' as if today were your last here,
live life to the fullest.

Fear of visiting the City,
is nothing like sharing a toothbrush.

Bubble baths, fragrant oils and rubber duckie,
comforting after quilting.

Cookies baking in the oven,
gently remind me of my favorite seforim.

I have many poems in my journals. Omg, I love my journals.

Here is but one:

HATRED

I hate
them
So I killed
Them
But I still
Hate
Them

mosheshmeal
.

Who has WillyWonka's muzzle?

I was taking some creative license.

It wasn't meant as an euphemism or anything like that.

Excuse me?

Whose [muzzle]?

mosheshmeal
.

That night when joy began
Our narrowest veins to flush,
We waited for the flash
Of morning's levelled gun.

But morning let us pass,
And day by day relief
Outgrows his nervous laugh,
Grown credulous of peace,

As mile by mile is seen
No trespasser's reproach,
And love's best glasses reach
No fields but are his own.

November 1931

-- Auden

oh.

So here, alas
so crass
in the grass
a lass.

Lost,
at such cost
in the frost
she was bossed


But nay
Make hay
and never say
what a fine day.

The Voices of Noise:
Beeps and buzzes, gongs and dings,
Bells and whistles, mingles things.
Mangles music, brings all noise,
Out of happily banging boys.