Don’t judge someone based on another person’s opinion.

Dusk settled across the Air Force Base and soon it would be dark.

Tommy played outside with his brand new tricycle. Mom washed up the evening dishes, while Dad read the sport section of that day’s Bee.

Suddenly, a child’s scream echoed through the house and each parent was quick to respond, recognizing it as that of their only child. Both raced to find the child before it was too late.

But they were too late. They only had time enough to witness Tommy’s trike lift and disappear into the belly of the alien spacecraft, before the UFO sped away.

feeling so loved
that he’s certain
should he fall
off the edge
of the earth,
no one would
note his absence.
they might search
for rabbit’s hole
if…they…do.

kansas flies by
and toto howls.
but alas nobody
listened to his
words, his voice
when he claimed
it would one-day
be his undoing.
what a shame,
never missed by
those he thought
loved him and
them he loved.

but no, not
so, finding out
much too late,
as the realities
edge raced up
and dumped him
into outer space.
major tom from
space control: stop!

that rabbit hole
turns out is
a deadly black-hole
silent, lonely, cold,
where by design
death is certain.

what a long
and solitary drop
to a place
with no bottom.
where is hell?
what is toto?
who is tin-man
or why rabbit?
inside of him.
he is his
oz of alice-land.
time to go.

Bridging the age gap often takes a generational jump.

If they have to force you, then you’re not free.

For weeks the two bickered back and forth with one claiming ‘I don’t talk too much,’ while the other claimed, ‘oh yes, you do.’ It was becoming disruptive to the work environment and a supervisor finally had to put a stop to it.

“Both of you need to knock it off now,” she said, “This is an office, not a playground. You quit being so verbose and you quit complaining. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” both said in a sheepish tone.

“See there,” said the talkative one to the complainer, “I don’t talk too much. I’m jus’ verbose!”

“Can I pull you away to come look at what the boys found?” the Segundo asked.

“Certainly,” answered the concerned boss.

They got in the Gator and headed for the corrals, where the counting of cattle from the recent Fall round-up and separation for shipment was happening. As the pair pulled up, they could hear a general tumult and the excitement in the cowhand’s voices.

He climbed the railing, only to see an eighteen-pointer milling about with the rest of the cattle in the pen.

“Now, that ain’t something you see everyday,” the boss laughed, “An elk – self-identifying as beeves.”

My wife says I have two faults: I don’t listen and — umm — something else.

Since lawyers are disbarred and clergymen are defrocked, it follows that cowboys can be deranged.

Some people always appear to be at the apex of their career.