He Had It Coming
By Trisha Brimhall
On the roadside he stood idly thumbing;
Tattered sign: "down and out" his state summing.
Through speech sometime slurred,
He'd share rich-toned word.
"Yes, to him", all scoffed, "he had it coming."
Then fate cracked one day and on a whim,
Passerby rolled down car's window rim.
Amid viral sensation,
His voice melted a nation.
He had it - finally - coming to him.
I Wanted to Write
by Mary Ann Duke
I waned to write. I believed that I could
I put pen to paper, and I thought it was good.
With my brain in gear to the computer I sped
I typed up my story 'till my fingers bled.
I shot it off to a publishing house
The editor rejected it--the big ugly louse.
So, I boarded the bus that went to the train
That took me to the airport where I got on a plane
To New York I flew
Then a taxi, a subway and a city bus,too
Brought me face to face with the editor of choice
(I'd seen in the parking lot, his shiny Rolls Royce.)
Mr. Editor, I said with a tear in my eye
If you don't publish my story I think I will die.
Go ahead; drop dead on the floor at my feet
I'm very busy with clients to meet.
This made me angry, this made me mad
The feelings I had were evil and bad.
I balled up my fist, I raised my arm high
I socked him hard
Right in the eye.
This tragic scene was dismal, yes dismal and grim
But--eveyone knows, HE HAD IT COMING TO HIM.