The Bird-bardierThe Bird-bardier (based on actual events)By Andrew ChandlerA bird attacked me yesterday.I didn’t even flinch.I hit the floor and closed my eyes.I think it was a finch.Mind my business all day long.I never saw it coming.It didn’t screech or tweet or squawk.It wasn’t even humming.Straight for my face it dove and swooped,And unprovoked was it.A mass of down and up it went,My pants I nearly… soiled.Most surprising is the factBehind closed doors was I.In my office, not alone,My kindred both close by.The wife she screamed and held up highOur boy, a baby still.All the while the fowl destroy
The Cactus BanditoThe Cactus Banditoby Andrew ChandlerAmid the barren wasteland plainsStands a solitary harrowing figure.Bearing the burden of one scorned,A lonely harbinger of inflicting pains.Tall, stoic and straight as a pillar,Casting his shadow on the arid sand.Ever watchful, exacting, unwavering,Taking it all in, the hollow killer.Deadly stubble, clear and subtle,He stirs not, envying the tumbleweedAnd the diamondback rattler,Even as they join the rubble.There are those who would steal his precious nectar,The life giving liquid, fermenting within.He is poised, anxious for revenge,Spiny, vicious, unforgiving vector.Like
Soap SoupSoap SoupBy Andrew ChandlerToday I slurped some soap soup for lunch.I have to admit, it was easy to munch.Hot and fragrant, frothy and white,It went down so smoothly, right to the last bite.Slippery saucer and slicker the spoon,A bit of Palmolive and lavender too,Delightful aromas to cover the taste,Cause once you’ve begun, there’s no more to waste.Odor most bodily getting you down?Try homemade soap soup and pass it around.It’ll clean out your pores. It’ll clean out you gullet,In fact it might even just clean out your mullet.Trouble with drinking? Trouble with smoking?Soap soup in a can will k
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