NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 20: A Poem Using Terms from a Particular Sport

Designed for Use in Congested Areas

The WIFFLE (R) perforated plastic ball

is thrown like a baseball
and will curve very easily

different grips and releases
no need to throw the ball hard

designed for use in congested areas
the ball will not travel far

when solidly hit

ball chasing and base running
have been eliminated

an ordinary broom handle can be used

imaginary runners

From a prompt at, using information from the WIFFLE company website. The whole time I wrote this, I was sort of memory-smelling a WIFFLE ball and feeling a sadness that may be nostalgia or may be a remnant of dismal times playing with one of these because there wasn’t much else to do — like at your grandparents’ house (or at mine, anyway).


NaPoWriMo, Day 19: A Creation Myth

God Unveils the AirDancer (R)


Behold my finest creation:
a man as tall as a mighty elm,
with hollow arms and head,
ready to receive the breath of life
from a small compressor fan
and thence to dance, to wave,
to beckon human men and women
to purchase used cars, boats,
above-ground pools. I know I rested
already, on the seventh day, but
I might need to rest again, here on
day 512. I’ve outdone myself.
That much is clear.



Based on a prompt at


NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 18: Neologisms

Option Paralysis


In the toiletsun
of a foreverheadache,
the ceramic bunny mocks me
as I question how I came here
to this clutterspaced nest
of my life, why I drag home
more and more lifethings,
like a secret hoarder of
From the cottonworld of my
overstuffed head, I pull out
one thing and then another,
consider them,
put them back. I am too
busytimed today,
will be far more
adequatepaced tomorrow
or in some evermorrow
or the one after that.




From a prompt at


NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 16: A Letter

Dear Eleanor

How shall I tell you all that has happened here?
One day there were bells all in the sea
and washed up like whelks
only singing, ringing

Another day there were clouds everywhere I looked
including under the hearth rug, which was in turn
under a fat, sleeping dog which barely roused itself
to bark, but when it barked, it told me a parable
that I can’t now repeat

This evening, we sat down to our customary supper
and found that the table had gone all quavery
and halfway out the window, tasting the salt air,
which then made the tongue sandwiches taste
of salt, too

Well, it’s off to bed with me,
if I can find it. Some nights,
it’s strewn with fresh petals
of frangipani or damask rose,

and some nights, it’s


NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 14: A Clerihew

OK, here was the prompt I had to work with, from Last but not least, our prompt! Because it’s Friday, let’s keep it light and silly today, with a clerihew. This is a four line poem biographical poem that satirizes a famous person. And here’s the result (keep scrolling — it’s there, I promise) … I didn’t want to join what I was sure would be a crowded field of Trump poems.


Shirley Jackson
can’t come back, son.
Enjoy her horror
unless you abhor her.


NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 13: A Ghazal

Life’s Blue Dolphin Comb

At Showbiz Pizza when I was 10, all I could get was a dolphin comb.
Not even a lobster harmonica; instead, I got a blue dolphin comb.

When we watched the robot band, ate pizza and cake, I’m sure
I tried to content myself with it, my prize of a dolphin comb.

I was never very good at video games or ball-tossing games;
that’s probably how I ended up with only that dolphin comb.

I know I got a balloon, too, which may have helped take away
the sting of wanting a gumball machine, getting a dolphin comb.

It had a sailor hat and goofy smile, flimsy teeth that clicked when
I ran my thumbnail down the length of my new dolphin comb.

Here’s the lesson, Marilyn, if there is one: Sometimes it’s easier
if you can learn to fall in love with it, life’s blue dolphin comb.

The prompt from was to write a ghazal, which this one sort of is.


NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 12: Revolutionized by Wieners

flavor kept by “Sack O’ Sauce”

You were rude
to me so now
you get no hot

revolutionized by Wieners




Swift’s Premium Frankfurts
Creamed Diced Carrots in Onion Cups
Parsley Potatoes
Citrus Salad
Butterscotch Pudding




I meant to do the prompt at, which was to write with alliteration and assonance. I started fine, with wieners and worlds, but then I got stuck on that. Hat tip to Facebook group Dave’s Retro Rumpus Room, where every Wednesday is Wiener Wednesday (but pie is never to be mentioned — it’s in the rules).


NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 11: A Bop

Here’s what I had to do, per “[In a Bop,] a six-line stanza introduces the problem, and is followed by a one-line refrain. The next, eight-line stanza discusses and develops the problem, and is again followed by the one-line refrain. Then, another six-line stanza resolves or concludes the problem, and is again followed by the refrain.”

And here’s what I wrote:

The Egg Case

The kind of praying mantis whose egg case
looks kind of like a putty-colored testicle
wrapped like a glob around a plant stalk
is not our native praying mantis but
an invasive one from China that eats
hummingbirds and butterflies.

Do I freeze this thing or not?

Someone in a monarch Facebook group
posted a side-by-side photo comparison,
and I knew that what’s in my garden is
the brazen one in the video I haven’t watched
where it picks off a hummingbird in flight.
Or, since we’re talking egg cases,
what I mean is that the one in my garden
contains 500 invaders waiting for warmth.

Do I freeze this thing or not?

That person said there really is no moral dilemma
regarding 500 superpredators that aren’t from here.
Who wouldn’t freeze the egg case before it writhes
with babies, those hammer-headed, bug-eyed things
that, like all babies, never asked to be born, had no say
in their location, or the manner in which they live?

Do I freeze this thing or not?