Poetry

Friday Poetry for 08 December 2017

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From the vault. The note in the original file is that it’s on the occasion of my almost ten-month-old son’s third cold. He’ll be turning 19 shortly.

 

Few things shake your soul

Like a baby with a cold

Pick me up, put me down

Turn me over, turn me around

Go away, come here, go away

No, wait, I want you to stay

I’m tired, can’t sleep

I’m hungry, won’t eat

I’m thirsty, won’t drink

Just pour the milk down the sink

Short naps in the bed

Rub my tummy, rub my head

Daddy’s tired, needs a rest

Mama-mama (likes her best)

Cry and scream, scream and cry

Daddy needs a quiet place to lie

Mommy’s home, at last, at last

Pass the baby, quickly, fast

Daddy sits and sighs, he’s rather glad

Then comes the scream, I want my dad!

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Learning from his children how to follow his dreams again, Lance has long since allowed his writing to slip over the border into obsession, and typically has too many projects in progress. Dividing his time between traditional and independent publishing, he still finds time for spirited discussions with the technology around him,

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