By Jeffrey Bishop

Powerless to move so don’t even try

says the pacing papershredder, removing any doubts

of his bark being worse than his bite

as your last drop of courage drips from your forehead

and soaks the cover of an undelivered PennyPower.


A near scrape: they were nearly scraping you

from the pavement;

she turned before you too soon; but don’t stop now, Ma’am

and you will,

barely, sideways, slowing, stopped.

Lucky you had your helmet on, kid.


Fear is the guy who taps on your

left shoulder while hiding behind your right.

And you know hes comin’ around

but if you know, then how come

he always catches you off guard?


Copyright 2013

~ by Random Handyman on July 22, 2013.

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