A nation divided,
With leadership derided,
On a tangent of distractions.
The media giving them fuel,
Focusing on the drivel,
Congress continues to show inaction,
Amidst a circus of tawdry attractions.
The state of the union
Is like cutting an onion —
Makes you weep.
Loaded and ready to go,
Appeared to have a good start,
Then flashed a code E3,
Thus began my woe;
The washer required a $600 part
Plus labor expenses charged hourly.
Instead of wasting my dough,
I took an old go-cart,
Piled in all my dirty laundry,
Like a furious bat,
I raced to the local laundromat,
STAT . . .
I’ll be parked here for a while,
Feeling like I’m in exile,
Until there’s no more unwashed pile.
Six-word story version:
Cartwright realized he will never sail.
Expanded version — 12-word story:
Land bound, Cartwright accepted his destiny — never to sail the high seas.
The cart that couldn’t.
On the boardwalk with no sail,
Only treads for wear.
Dinner is ready. While Marcy waits for her husband, Jerry, to come home, she drinks a glass of vodka straight, and then brushes her teeth with fennel flavored toothpaste. She goes toward the kitchen when she hears her husband come in.