When the heatwave hit Nebraska the cows keeled over dead— Not really dead, but nearly dead, (at least that’s what the farmers said) when the heat wave hit Nebraska. When the heatwave hit Nebraska the cornfields went bone dry— Not real bones, just dirt and stones. The baking skies were filled with moans when the... Continue Reading →
My math brain fell apart again and now I can’t be sure, whether nine is more than ten ‘cause nine is spelled with four, and ten is spelled with three, and three is spelled with five, and five is spelled with four again, which shows how I arrive at thinking nine’s the same as five,... Continue Reading →
You can’t have this poem. I called it first. Shotgun. No do-overs. Can’t be reversed. It’s mine—finders keepers. It’s mine—pinky swear. It’s mine—losers weepers. Sorry. Life isn’t fair. I thought it first. I went and picked it. You sure you still want it? That’s why I licked it. -M.M.
Sitting on the Couch with Friends What is to stop me from planting my feet on the wall and walking straight into the sky? I can walk from the couch to the pantry, can’t I? I need my Wheat Thins before plopping down on the couch. The Game needs fuel.... Continue Reading →
D T C R O S S W O R D F S A M H N A W U S M I L E S W R I T I N G L I M N K A A N E S S B Y B A C O N T H E H... Continue Reading →
Snow Sprites The snow sprites came down the mountain at night. Wispy and chill, wispy and chill. They danced to the left and they danced to the right. Wispy and chill, wispy and chill. The flowers the dipped in caskets of frost. Wispy and chill, wispy and chill. They sparkled the rivers and... Continue Reading →
Picky Pete Picky Pete, Please take your seat. Sit down. Right now. And eat it. I won’t repeat, Please, have a seat. Don’t move till you complete it. And if you cheat, I’ll eat your treat. Pick up your fork and eat it! -M.M.
Miner Discovery The miner was mining (as miners will do) With a pick in his hand and a foot in each shoe, Chipping away in the dark at the stone, Humming a melody, lost and alone, With naught but the minimal light from his hat, Searching for anything new to look at— A... Continue Reading →
Thump, Thump, Splat! Each autumn when the leaves began to turn from green to orange, the small town of Ravensberg in the Bracken Valley would earnestly prepare for the Great Fall Festival. Wreaths of orange, yellow, and red leaves would appear on front doors, grandmothers would begin practicing their pie making for the Great Pie-Pickin’... Continue Reading →