"Dear Brother of Mine"

Happy birthday,
dear brother of mine,
You're just a year older,
which is perfectly fine.

There's no reason,
to worry nor stress.
Just relax,
and go play some chess.

I'm not saying,
your birthday should be boring.
You wouldn't want,
your guests to start snoring.

But keep in mind,
this day is all yours.
So forget about,
doing those chores.

Happy birthday,
dear brother of mine.
Enjoy your birthday,
the next one is mine.

Mom, I know you do the dishes
And I know you cook the food
I know you scrub down all the floors
Even when you're in a bad mood.
And every night you walk the dog
While I'm watching all my shows
On Thursdays, you take out the trash
And every spring you wash the windows.
Mom, I know you're sad I'll go someday
And leave you all alone
But right now I'm only 35
So what other place could I call home?

"Diaper Alert"

My God!
what's in yond wind yee broke
doth burn mine eyes
and make me choke.

Such bitter breeze
such wafting savor
assaults mine senses
which flee in terror!

No sewage pit
nor stagnant mire
cans't rival thine
unholy power.

A road dead skunk
in a summer's swelter
would smell more like a rose
most precious flower.

What cursed perfume
thou villainous rouge
doth linger in thine wake
begone and find your mom I say
it's her turn for goodness sake!

– Running Wolves

"Night Noises"

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

It's louder than the sound of barking dogs at night
Or a fireworks explosion that lights the sky real bright.
A chainsaw cutting logs doesn't make as much din,
Nor did the wall coming down way over in Berlin.

A jet plane at takeoff will get your attention quick,
As will a jackhammer engaged in busting up some brick.
But neither equals the clamor from Mom and Dad's bedroom,
Worse than a stack of dynamite at the moment of KABOOM!

At last, I figured out the source of all the raucous roaring.
It was only good old Dad engaging in some snoring
Mom says: "I don't mind; it's really a Godsend
That all that wind isn't coming out the other end."

– Alan Balter

"Grandpa’s Nose"

Grandpa’s nose is rather big
it’s shaped just like a horn
It doesn’t bother Grandpa,
he says that’s how he was born

I’m glad it’s not a ‘pick’ a lo
or a snooty flute
but when people hear him ‘toot’ his nose
they stand up and salute.

– Judy Valko