Steve Jones and I carved out the inside of a bush one time. It was our club house, for the seasons with leaves at least.
At the inaugural meeting we all brought snacks: fruities, tooties, crackers, jackers, gum drops, lollitops, and lightly salted pretzels.
My Dearest Graham,
I’ve wrote this sketch as a suggestion for the season finale. We’ve known each other since the Revue and have been working on our Monty Python series for three years now. Together, we’ve brought a bit of light and humor to this often times dark and dreary world. You’ve been a dear friend to me, but I need you to finally realize how I feel. Continue reading
Pre-order now and avoid those long lines
that are causing many students to sport lab goggles with their outfits
but when the weather turns warmer
a shorter name will be used when the service begins.
Deep, dense, dark, and delicious,
a deliciously complex chocolate experience
treated to a complete electrical upgrade.
Get ready to swoon over our newest creation:
buildings that are built on sites that once housed historic buildings,
the spot for a working lunch, cheap date, fancy dinner movie, baseball game, dental appointment, car wash and dozens
of friday nigh jamborees,
flannel friday presenting the final friday.
This is your opportunity to tell us,
150 individuals to register because soon,
the now sparse shelves will be stocked with a different kind of merchandise.
get your ears full and your bodies moving,
get down with the black twig pickers.
Triple layer triumph of melted Belgian milk,
each moist rich layer floats on a cloud.
“I love you” with every bite.
I’m afraid that would get me in trouble with my friends, readers and advertisers.
Curtis Stanford is the co-fiction editor for the minnesota review and assistant poetry editor for Silhouette.
