Weight a Minute
Oh, doctor, please don’t weigh me yet.
The end result might make me fret.
At least let me take off my shoes
before you tell me the bad news.
Those numbers are a sorry sight,
but I will put up quite a fight.
I’ve got a trick I must propose.
Just let me ditch my panty hose.
But what is this, the scale’s not changed.
Perhaps you think that I’m deranged,
but if I could slip off my ring,
my ass won’t be in such a sling.
That did not lighten me one bit.
I have to say I feel like shit.
So now I’m in my birthday suit,
and hope the scale will recompute.
Oh me, oh my, I weigh the same
and doctor says that I’m to blame.
The fault behind my wretched weight
lies in the heaps of food I ate.
Spider in the Corner
A spider knocked on my front door
and nimbly dashed inside.
She said the rain was much too wet,
which she could not abide.
The downpour soaked her web so bad,
it was a soggy mess.
She couldn’t trap a single bug,
which left her in distress.
I let her have a corner wall
to weave her silky thread.
No longer did I swat at flies.
They all got trapped instead.
In time we two became good friends.
I felt a strong bond growing.
She’d wave to me with several legs,
her gratitude was showing.
It grieves me now as I recall
that mishap in my bathroom.
I wasn’t thinking when I cleaned.
She now lives in my vacuum.
Louise Michelle loves to write wacky poetry and flash fiction. Her work has appeared in various magazines and e-zines.