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Abecedarian inspired by Bill Yarrow


by Gita M. Smith


Despite what the bible says, Shadrach and Meshach had no third brother named Abednego.

To pay for his cello lessons, Yo-Yo Ma worked the subways of New York as a busker.

Just chill.

After Sal went into witness protection, he yearned for a job at the art museum as a docent.

This month, scientists added two new substances to the Periodic Table of Elements.

Does anyone really still say ‘fellatio?'

Veux-tu manger de crème glacée?


Jeb, busy attending to the flower buds in his marijuana patch was listening to Neko Case through headphones and never heard the thump-thump-thump of the DEA helicopter.

Is it “you and me” or “you and I?”

Every boy is fascinated the first time he sees his own jizz.

 “I just want your extra time and your…. Kiss.”   

 On clear nights, we sat in lawn chairs with long-necked Buds, watching stars from the levee.

Las chicas parecian bastante en Cinquo de Mayo.

Sha na na.

Harold was on the verge of reeling in his biggest bass, ever, when it was stolen by a swooping osprey.

A sharp-eyed game warden witnessed Harold shooting an osprey -— a protected species -- and imposed a stiff penalty.

Royalty may come and royalty may go, but Freddie Mercury will always be the Queen.

On the other hand, many old-timers believe that title belongs to Little Richard.

After school, the eighth grade chess club liked to practice in the basement because the lenient janitor let them swear and smoke.

Today's vegan special is gallows humor tofu with a side of shoot-me-now rice tartar.

Is there really enough difference to warrant two separate countries named Paraguay and Uruguay?

Michigan's House of Representatives went dervish when Rep. Lisa Brown publicly used the word “vagina.”

It takes a dozen or more American words to express what the British so ably compress into “wanker.”

Principal Galifanakis, as was his tradition, locked the door to the teachers' lounge on the first day of school and gave everyone Xanax.

Though many have been called sharp-shooters, none was as sneaky as Sgt. York.

Your poems and short stories make me zealous.

 

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