Non-Fiction in The New Yorker

If the subject is appealing,

I’ll, at first, begin to read,

Though the facts with which I’m dealing

Are way more than what I need. 

All the knowledge that I’m gaining,

By the time I reach page 3,

Can’t prevent my interest waning

And I’m sure it’s not just me.

Aren’t the editors aware of

When a story is too long?

For, as readers, we despair of

Lack of reining in what’s wrong.

What I mostly end up doing

Is abandoning, mid-stream,

Someone’s effort, rarely ruing 

That it might be gaining steam.

Still, I’ll stick with my subscription;

Through its pages I will comb.

What might cause a true conniption

Is an enigmatic poem!

Coronation Day

A Cinderella chariot,

Eight horses in the lead;

Two heavy looking crowns that seemed

Uncomfortable, indeed.

A scepter and an ermine robe,

An orchestra and choir,

With all that pomp and heraldry

Intended to inspire.

The royal family on board,

Except the ones estranged;

The military marchers

And the guests, just-so arranged.

Amazing to bear witness to

The history, the bling. 

I joined the world to watch

The coronation of a king.

Pedestrians and Pigeons

The water’s kinda choppy

But the sun, at least, is strong,

So I’m out here by the river,

On the bench where I belong.

 

I’m so rarely here on Friday –

It’s our day to watch the grands,

But my husband, with a virus,

Wasn’t up to those demands.

 

Which is why I’m out here, sitting

With the sunshine on my face.

Though I miss the kids like crazy,

This is time I will embrace.

 

Just pedestrians and pigeons,

With some canines on the squad,

Are my afternoon companions

On the east side promenade.

500 Pounds of Pasta

Along a Jersey creek, somebody

Made a crazy find –

500 pounds of pasta had been

Somehow left behind.

 

Whoever dumped the noodles

(Mainly elbows and spaghetti)

Isn’t known, but word got out and

There was lots of wordplay ready.

 

“Pastabilities were endless,”

Was reported and, as well,

“The perpetrators need

The penne-tentiary,” I heard tell.

 

My favorite was the mastermind

Whose capture is the aim.

Though it might be just an alias,

Al Dente is his name.

I Used To

I used to love to shop the mall

And check out every store.

At Yankee games, I’d track each ball

And carefully keep score.

 

I used to watch new movies when,

In theaters, they first aired.

On Broadway, I’d catch shows and then,

Opinions were compared.

 

I used to visit countries where

I’d wander through the streets

And with my husband, we would share

Some European treats.

 

I used to think those times would last,

But now, alas, they’re in the past.

The Rolling Stool

At the doctor’s to check out my knee,

While I waited until he was free,

I glanced up and took note

At a sign someone wrote,

Which was more a command than a plea.

 

It said, “Please do not roll on the stool.”

That’s where doctors would sit, as a rule.

Now did some misbehave,

Roll and rant in a rave,

Thinking doing just that would be cool?

 

I admit that on seeing the sign,

That desire somehow became mine,

But I’d sure be abashed

If I rolled and I crashed,

So temptation I had to decline.

Mother Goose's Party

Here at Mother Goose’s party

Jack and Jill have just arrived.

Small Bo Peep and Jack be Nimble

Came to greet them and high-fived

 

While Miss Muffet, busy eating,

Found a spider in her whey.

Even though ‘twas itsy-bitsy,

Humpty Dumpty saved the day.

 

Georgie Porgie went in search of

Little Jack among the sheep.

He was eating Christmas pie right near

Boy Blue, who was asleep.

 

As the cat was entertaining

With his fiddle ‘neath the moon,

Some big cow jumped over, looking

For a missing dish and spoon.

 

There were hot cross buns a’plenty

Selling down by London Bridge.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,

Hoped to taste one – just a smidge.

 

Old King Cole made an appearance,

Peter Piper by his side.

Three blind mice played pat-a-cake

While Tommy Tucker ran to hide.

 

It was quite a festive evening

“Til the striking of the clock,

All to honor Mother Goose

And all the members of her flock.

*Today is officially Mother Goose Day