Water is my favourite drink
I sure find it delicious
If some old bad guy stole it all
I’d find it quite malicious
What would we do?
Where would we go?
We’d get so dehydrated
That’s why I built this reservoir
And sat down here
And waited
My lifestyle’s underrated
Australia, the young man knew,
Held many things for him to do
And proud Brazil, whose flag was green,
Was filled with things that he had seen
He’d studied well the Paris streets
Some day, he said, he’d visit Greece
A wanderer, he called himself
Exploring books upon his shelf
There was a man at the corner with one third of a hat and half a pair of shoes. I offered him my boots. He sold them to a homeless guy for ten bucks and gave the money to a woman at a bus stop.
I really liked those boots…
Alternate Version:
He stood there on the corner, with tattered hat and coat. His backpack overflowed with toys that he was handing out.
His shoes were only halfers: they covered just his heels. I offered mine, but he declined, ungrateful little eel.
He made me feel guilty, and guilt is not genteel.
This story, and the supplementary poem, were inspired by a title suggested by @hexapodium.
I want to eat my flatmate
I think he knows it, too
He watches me suspiciously
Whenever we buy food
It’s happening tomorrow
I’m going to boil his head
Wait: is this a man-shaped pan
Hidden beneath his bed?
I want to eat my flatmate
He may eat me instead
This story/poem is based on a title suggested by @big_poppa_G.
On Friday nights the walruses fight
They stab and tear and grimace
With merciless glee they redden the sea
The wounds they inflict are grievous
Alliances crumble, allegiances tumble
For walruses love to betray
Their blubbery bellies wriggle like jelly
With laughter, blood-lust, and dismay
On Fridays the walruses play
This story was based on a prompt from @Ad134, who responded to a call for two verbs and an adjective with laugh, betray, and blubbery. (I took a bit of liberty with “laugh,” though.)
A raccoon, a wolf, and a bighorn sheep sat down for a cup of tea.
The kettle burned out, which made the wolf shout, “Woe, I say, woe unto me!”
Catastrophe brewed: the tea-less wolf stewed. (He was addicted, you see).
The raccoon knew kung-fu. Don’t ask about the sheep.
This story was inspired by a prompt from @Aeric90, who responded to a request for three mammals with wolf, raccoon, and bighorn sheep.
‘Twas the night before Christmas
And throughout the ‘net
The blogs and webcomics
Tried not to forget
To mention the season
And wish readers well
As if missing Christmas
Would be their death knell
And this lowly website
To follow the herd
Adhered to the pattern
In just fifty words