Friday, September 26, 2008

Poetry Friday


Not While You’re Living On My Roof


I’m glad that shingles can’t talk

or we’d all be kept awake at night

listening to their bickering.

“Get off me.” “You’re crowding me.”

“Why can’t we live on the North side of the roof?”

“That’s my spot.” “I’m hot.”

“We can’t all be peak shingles.”

“I’m cold.” “Stop complaining.”

“I think you’ve got a nail coming loose.”

“Overlap is pointless. Don’t you think it’s pointless?”

“It’s raining. I hate it when it rains.”

“You smell like tar.” “Go jump in a gutter.”



But I’d probably get used to it.

6 comments:

jama said...

Thanks, Debbie. I needed to smile today :).

Kelly Fineman said...

Love this poem. Funny, with an undercurrent of truth and recognition. So great.

Yat-Yee said...

Priceless!

Barbara H. said...

I like what Kelly said: "Funny, with an undercurrent of truth and recognition." I think the most funny things do have a ring of truth to them.

Karen E. said...

Great, fun poem.

Good-night, John-boy.

TadMack said...

This is cute - what's funniest is the last, wry line -- of course you'd get used to it!