Happy Birthday L.K. from The U.K.!!

Your Birthday Scrabble

Totting up the years you cunning fox
Hi to a cool cat with a heart of an ox
Dreaming puppy dog and pussy cat
Lordy smiles like a naff rat
Toasting your birthday we come en bloc
Some in a suit and some in a frock
Vee shaped cake to point the way
As simple as pi and music to sway
Poets mingle in the juice bar writing on the vine

Teas from around the world squeezed next to the wine
Miss Spellers crop tapping away on her leather boot
Ladyhawk has thoughts on her next exciting shoot
Lisa your skills I admire as a enigmatic fan
May your cheeks glow as I open another can

Just the one valt to go
A word it shall not show thee
Happy birthday from me


Thanks Mitch, there are no words…I’m speechless!

XOXO – LK 😛 😛

© 2010

“NOW I LIKE YOU” by Alexis Rhone Fancher

Fancher & Alexis

I used to like bad boys,
but now I like you.

I choose you in spite of my previous bad choices.
I choose you because you’re not my type.
I choose you although you make a good living.
I choose you because you’re not James Dean.

I used to like bad boys,
but now I like you.

I choose you although you are kind and mature.
I choose you although you won’t forget my birthday.
I choose you although you won’t betray me.
I choose you although you won’t break my heart.

I used to like bad boys,
but now I like you.

I choose you now that drummers have lost their allure.
I choose you now after two false starts.
I choose you now that I’ve finally come to my senses.
I choose you, and not a moment too soon.

I used to like bad boys
but now I like you.

I choose you to finish my sentences.
I choose you to be my partner in crime.
I choose you to be my nights’ companion.
I choose you till the end of time.

I used to like bad boys,
but now I like you.

Alexis Rhone Fancher

Photo by John Sullivan

All Rights Reserved

© 2009

“Flagellation Mambo” by L. K. Thayer

L. K. Thayer

I felt like bubble gum was stuck to my brain
waxing and waning like the moon on a coffee break

I’d had several shots of volcanic acid to ease my equilibrium.

The slander beneath my magic carpet
came to a halt at the bedpost. My inner lining
was forcing me to come clean. My conscience
was haunting my iridescence. It was coming down
to the upswing of my hoop skirt and how well
I could balance on the tightrope of my hemline.

My bruises were oozing come-hither stares
as I led the parade of my masquerade.
Behind the veil of my Cheshire cat grin
of teeth baring shame, I revealed my
ruffled agenda.
I had nine lives to live, was on the seventh
flight of fancy, on an elevator stuck
on the sixth floor.

Round and round and round I went, leaving
baskets of candy on May Day, wishing it
were Halloween, anything but
my fucking birthday.

The cupcakes were lined up, fifty candles
burning my flesh and ravaging my smoky ravine.
I was teetering on scandal and parody.
I had painted myself into a corner,
doing the self-mocking flagellation mambo,
in a brand spanking new pair of shoes,
leaving footprints for someone
to find me.

A grifter, a pioneer of sadistic synopsis
and cynicism challenged my varicose veins.
Eye popping, butter-finger burlesque, was all
I could rely on, that and a ‘65 Ford Galaxy 500,
with a bad paint job and a crocheted afghan,
hiding my ripped interior.

My heart raced with frenetic frenzy
and “why don’t you call me?” confusion.
My bottom was somebody else’s top
of the morning.
Humbled by the rocky landscape
and jagged desperation, I fought to
stay above board and ahead of the game.
Through the maze of carney’s
and bearded ladies, snake charmers
and Starbuck’s frappacinos, I was caught
holding the whip.

My fantasy of living in the lap of perjury
was going against my migraine. I was
sleepwalking and waiting for the day,
when the moon would switch places with
the sun, and hoping that somehow,

mommy and daddy would just get along.

L. K. Thayer

All Rights Reserved

© 2009

“To Be Fabulous” by Sarah Mac Donald

the_face

Photo by Sarah Mac Donald

It was my birthday, which is always a good time to be thinking about death – I love the way burials have gotten green – I think I’ll probably want that. One thing I do know, is I don’t want my kids worrying about what to do with my ashes – I don’t want to be in a coffee can, lost in someone’s garage – dump me in the ocean, or something like that, easy and cheap.

There are so many ways to die – is it better to pay almost 10,000 dollars and die in a sweat lodge in Sedona, die in a crash on the freeway or drop from the sky in a plane with a bunch of strangers?

Is it better to be happy and die
Is it better to be sad and die
Is it better to be angry and die

Is it better to be fat and die
Is it better to be thin and die
Is it better to be stupid and die
Is it better to be smart and die
Is it better to be awake and die
Is it better to be asleep and die

I have decided it is better to be fabulous and die. To be outrageous. To still be alive.
To have turned over every stone, rock, clump of dirt in my life, every talent, glimmer and good piece of my life, every shining thing that I can think of and then I can laugh, or at least smile.

I shall be the Cheshire Cat of death.

Sarah Mac Donald

All Rights Reserved

© 2009