Morgan Michaels Poems

Have you lost your job?
Is your wife depressed?
How can you say it's ok,
when even your jeans are distressed?
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Once there were three children who lived with their father and mother. Their house was old but marketable and stood in the corner of a remote suburb. Tragically, their father died suddenly, leaving the children in the care of his wife, who was not the children's biological mother, but who adapted them soon after her husband's death.

The children's new mother soon tired of the children because they annoyed her immensely. But she decided not to put them up for adaption because of the income derived on their behalf from the state. Instead, she beat them unmercifully and often, leaving off only when she went to the Post Office. What's more, she neglected them liberally and frequently sent them to bed without supper.
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In the US now we have Dog-Day.
'Wretched excess', hiss the cats, and,
'A nifty way to part fools from their money'.
Woof! They are merely jealous-
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Let us make one thing perfectly clear-
Poems are less about words than ideas.
A good one, a good one.
A paltry one, a not-so-good one.
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