Alternate careers for resident poet |

Alternate careers for resident poet

When the news is all doom and gloom, it’s nice to be able to count on our summertime resident poet, May Rose Salkin, to smatter the letters page with perfectly metered verse exploring such breezy topics as crossing the street, eating cookies, sitting on benches, eating cookies while sitting on benches and crossing the street some more.

But have you ever wondered what the letters section of our local newspapers would look like if May Rose had chosen a different career, but still felt the need to put pen to paper and weigh in daily in her own unique way?

No, of course you haven’t. Because it isn’t your job to wonder such things. It is mine, however, so …

May Rose The Bitter Waitress

This morning I made coffee,

It tasted pretty crappy.

You took a sip and made a face,

Which made me rather happy.

The lunchtime crowd can kiss my ass,

For tables I must turn.

And as for those who stiff me,

In hell I hope they burn

May Rose The Personal Injury Attorney

My croissant is quite warm this morning

There’s nothing better tastin’.

But then – A screech! A scream! A crash!

And I’m off ambulance chasin’.

So cross Main Street I sprinted,

As if I’m in a race.

I have to get there lickety-split,

If I’m to get the case.

Street crossing, you may recall

Is not a skill I’ve mastered

I ran into a cyclist

I’ll have to sue the bastard

May Rose The Scary Mall Clown

There’s nothing strange about a clown

Whose dog wears red pajamas

Here kid – a phallic balloon sculpture

Get a dollar from your mama

May Rose The Drug Dealer

I’ll have some ‘shrooms for Halloween

Just forty bucks a quarter

You know how quick they get snapped up

You’d better place your order

Want liquid L from Fogtown?

Come by and get a squirt.

I just got bud from Santa Cruz

That’ll knock it in the dirt

May Rose The Pharmacist (Technically still a drug dealer, but totally different poem)

I love to work with little pills

All blue and white and red

Both Prozac and Viagra

Go straight to your head

If you wonder why I’m smiling

I guess it is worth noting

I fill your script most happily

‘Cause I’m so ripped on Codeine

May Rose The Highway Flagger

Each day I eat a bran muffin

While standing by the road

And when it does its job I’ll visit

The plastic, green commode

You may think that I’m saying “Hi”

As my hand moves towards the ground

But what I really mean to say

Is “Slow that #%*! thing down!”

May Rose The Narcotics Officer

They legalized weed in England

In Aspen schools they canceled DARE

Should this ugly trend continue

Whatever shall I wear?

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