October 11, 2013


There was a little girl
Who had a little line
Right on the side of her mouth
She had the figure of a pin-up
And the temper of a koala
Hated capers and parsley
Adored coffee and sushi
And bent over like an old lady when she brushed her teeth
She cried over whales and horses
And in bed sometimes, too
She read big books
And took people in small doses
Hissing if you got too close too soon, or not close enough not soon enough
Her heart was Silk Moth fuzzy
And Tasmanian Devil passionate
Razor blades fell from her mouth at times
And she felt like Edward Scissorwords
Because loving her was apparently as safe as putting your face in a cheetah’s mouth
There was a little girl
Who decided she didn’t want to be princess anymore
But queen
Just Queen
She laughed loudly
Kissed like a boss
Saw letters in colors
Could be hypnotized by stroking her hair
Or kissing between the neck, cheek and ear
But couldn’t be touched on the insides of her elbows
Or knees, or above the clavicles
A red dot would appear on her cheek in brass monkey weather
Her hands were always cold
But her arms would carry you to the end of the universe if need be
Because she didn’t show up for school when they taught half-assery
And longing never leaves her eye
And love and worship are all she knows
There was a little girl woman
Who had a little line
Right on the side of her mouth
When she was good, she was very very good
And when she was bad
Da capo al fine.


  1. My favorite line: Kissed like a boss.
    I believe this little poem has told me more Chris trivia than all of the blogs thus far. LOL! What great fun to write free-handed and single heartedly. No, half-assery is not in your blood, and I thank God for that Chris otherwise you would leave us bored and wanting, which you've yet to do.

    1. But I do kiss like a boss! Ask anyone. Ha. Yes, I agree that this one was more telling of me in more ways than one. It takes years of self-flagellation to be able to spew out gems like that, and they are finally paying off :D

  2. Ah Chris,

    The self-portrait. Of quirks, of idiosyncrasies, of revealing and not revealing. You know you are bad in a good sort of way. Now, Penny must attempt to decipher your comment on her posting :)


    1. Bad in a good way, good in a bad way... It comes down to a good heart and a short-circuit in dealing with the world. Sometimes there are fireworks, and sometimes there is electrocution. I also learned that it was not a nursery rhyme but a poem by Longfellow. Knock, knock. Who's there? The committee to take away your degrees, Chris. You are clearly a disgrace to English lit people all over, and we no longer want you in our midst.

      But then, how lovely to have discovered it by writing, and not by reading.

      Please tell Penny that my bird and cat said there was nothing to decipher, just an old song by Prince with depressing (and relevant) lyrics and a funky beat that made things easier to bear :) Have yourselves a nice day, all of your family.

  3. You know what, my dear friend? English lit is not a prerequisite. Those who say nay, can go away.

    I'm reading your writing. How enlightening. Not even frightening.

    Prince and depressing lyrics. Right then, thank you and I shall duly inform Penny when she takes over and comments back to you., your bird and your cat.

    I shall now go buy a little red Corvette. Imagine the stunned looks I shall get in England. Actually, I always get stunned looks. A good day to you and remember, I'm always floating somewhere in the background.

    Gary :)

    1. Pay no mind to my rants, Gary. It's just the stumbled overachiever in me getting back on track, and the snobbish elbows with which I have to rub when I'm not a blogger superhero. Wow, I think I've just conflated my inferiority and superiority complex into one. Nothing compares 2 me. But 2nite will be fine. Wait, that's Leonard Cohen.

      What a coincidence, I always get stunned looks too. Thank you for taking the time to stop by and sprinkle some of your stardust thoughts over here, it is greatly appreciated. Keep floating, please.


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