My beautiful little cousin, Rachel, and I first got to know each other a bit
when she spent an overnight with us years ago. When she came back she told
her grandmother, Mal, "I had fun with Bernice and the Big Boy."  I guess I
never grow up but Rachel has. She is now 11 years old (as of Feb 2006).
She had some stomach problems and got checked into the hospital. I was
convinced the problem was emotional and was not worried about cancer, etc.
So I wrote her the first poem (which she helped me finish) and we collaborated
on the second poem. The first was done on the way to the hospital and the
second was done in the hospital. (I think Sunday, 26 March). Rachel wanted me
to put both poems on the web, so here they are. They are scatological and
crude, but almost everyone of almost every age likes such humor. It seems we
never grow up - or perhaps it proves how grown up we are! After all, animals
never laugh at their own bodily functions.


Unfinished Sonnet To Rachel

Growing up is hard to do.
We don't admit it but its true.
The changes that we make are vast
They happen in a wink - so fast.
Our brain works hard to make us think.
Our body puts out smells that st_ _ _.
So when you feel you've no control.
Its sure to take a heavy toll.
O bodies, minds, and yes, on souls.
So in defense we shut our holes.
We do this but eventually
We're forced to open up and p_ _.
But the only way to feel real fit.
Is to move our bowels, that is to sh_ _.











My Cousin, Stan

My cousin, Stan is really dumb.
He dresses like a drunken bum.
People think he's really gross.
Just because he picks his nose.
He's so much fun, he's like a pet.
But every night his bed gets wet.
He's just as funny as a clown.
His underwear is streaked dark brown.
He eats his food from garbage pails.
And then he goes and bites his nails.
He eats no food, he just eats junk.
And so he smells just like a skunk.
Well, that's the story of his life.
So let's all stab him with a knife.