No End

I saw a hat shop called Lids,
I saw a tire shop called Skids,
Bottoms-up is an underwear shop,
A children’s store named Lollipop,
A restaurant named The Last Supper,
The brown cow named Dear Udder,
A food chain company called No Frills,
A Hitchcock movie that has no thrills,
The Band is the name of a rock band,
And this is a poem that has no end,


As if we did not have enough as is,
We now have  a fine bundle of this,
Wars and planes and death all over,
Now we got the Ebola virus moreover,
I wonder what is to be next on the list,
With weak leadership that does not exist,
At least we know that we can count on Obama,
To keep playing the part of a Prima Donna,


They call me Scarface Phil and I am mean,
250 pounds of muscle and one tough chin,
A fierce gaze a shaved head and a mad look,
Instead of a hand, I have a large sharp hook,
They call me Scarface Phil behind my back,
Or their faces I shall most definitely smack,
Everyone knows that for years with cruelty,
I have been writing the most horrid poetry,
They don’t call me Scarface Phil for naught,
Sometimes I may miss a comma or even a dot,

La Poheme

I wrote a few operas in my history,
A couple of books and a dark mystery,
The operas are closer to my heart the most,
It talks of love of hate and the Holy Ghost,
I almost wrote Tosca and Turandot what a gem,
Eventually I have settled writing my La Poheme,
Now I am working on my next opera “Car-Men”,
About the lives of NASCAR drivers on ESPN,

The Trees Talk

I read today a scientific study from BC,
That declared trees talk like you and me,
They talk using underground network of roots,
And not overhead using their network of fruits,
It is an elaborated system of signals, they use,
To talk, discuss, date, and even reproduce,
I understand that it was discovered after Berlin,
When the trees found out, Obama was listening in,


Plugging Away

I see people walking by in the street,
Their bodies strangely move to a hidden beat,
Some seem to be playing a virtual piano,
I once saw a man singing in loud soprano,
When I go on my daily walk, I see much,
Hundreds of people that are out of touch,
All with their ears plugged and corked,
Missing a turn where the street is forked,
Unaware of the buses and trucks and bikes,
Of others taking their daily walks and hikes,
Enclosed and confined within their ear plugs,
Behaving as if they are on a bag full of drugs,
I should know as I walk the same path every day,
I started in Toronto and ended in San Francisco Bay,


What’s for dinner tonight I inquire,
If I don’t eat soon I shall expire,
I haven’t eaten for a whole three hours,
I can feel my body drained of powers,
So what is for dinner tonight please tell,
Or is this what it feels like to be in hell,
What’s for dinner tonight I should know,
Since I am the chef of this joint, Yo

My Kind Of Town

Toronto is my kind of town,
With a mayor that doubles as a clown,
Many restaurants in Toronto the fair,
The city and I have had a long love affair,
It has beautiful old streets with passageways,
Tall skyscrapers and underground like maze,
Gardens and castle and Chinatown too,
Markets and an Island with a lake view,
Jazz festival, Gelato, pizza and sushi,
As for the mayor, we can’t all be choosy

The Tooth Fairy

Midsummer midnight not a soul in sight,
Except for a lonely star shining bright,
Lighting the way for the tooth fairy,
She does have a job; that is a bit scary,
She collects teeth and leaves a deposit,
Not a bad business one must admit,
As a consultant, I would recommend,
She should become the dentist’s friend,
Thus, get to the teeth at their source,
And spend her days on the golf course,

Back Home

Last night I met Constipacia Mendez,
Loyal sister to Clitora Juanita Perez,
Both from the fair city of Chimichuri,
Where the grey sky all year are dreary,
Both sisters are very much under stress,
FIFA world cup soccer has made life a mess,
Their country is hanging in by its teeth,
More stress is the last thing they need,
Thank God, the games will be over in two weeks
Home they’ll go to, falling wall and a roof that leaks,