No Flies on Me
©1992 Susan Noyes Anderson
Take all yore shit and git clean off my land;
that hog I raised is better company.
At least he knows to let a feller be
and plays a sucker straight, not underhand.
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Take all yore shit and git clean off my land;
that hog I raised is better company.
At least he knows to let a feller be
and plays a sucker straight, not underhand.
My little boys are growing up.
The baby’s five-foot-three!
It’s great, but must they take such pride
in looking down on me?
Opinions expressed by
the man in this house
should not be confused with
those held by his spouse.
Several years ago I came up with what I felt was a pretty fun and sassy saying, so I couldn’t resist making a little plaque of it to hang in my kitchen as a permanent display. The best part is that nearly everyone who enters my culinary domain makes a comment or observation about it, my husband included! (Thankfully, he is an awfully good sport with an excellent sense of humor.)
Okay, I kinda like you, but
it’s really no big deal.
Don’t think I’m feeling all that stuff
those crazy poets feel.
The dirtiest word
I’ve ever heard is
“sickness.”
Pneumonia
is a menace,
that’s for sure.
You make my liver quiver
and my heartbeat change its pace.
You make my neck hairs shiver
and my brain waves lose their place.
I love you in the morning, and
I love you in the night.
I love you when you’re next to me
and when you’re out of sight.
She’s one of a kind.
She’s sheer delight
wrapped up in pure
frustration––
an open invitation
to go wacky
or be happy
with
confusion, chaos and intrusion
into your life’s order.