Snapping Turtle

Today is National Poetry Day!

Here’s a poem that’s been running through my head. I finally wrote it down.

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Snapping Turtle

As I was driving home
I saw him in the road
I say ‘him;’
I don’t know.
He was halfway across my lane,
Another lane to go
Headed north
Toward the swamp.

I parked my car on the shoulder
Got out
Walked over
Picked him up.
“Don’t you know,”
I scolded,
“that the road is not a safe place for little turtles?”
He blinked.
Held my gaze.

I carried him beyond
To the far side of the road
To the tall grass on the north
To what safety might be there
I hoped he was returning home.
I hoped he was the Marco Polo of his clan
I hoped he’d tell the other turtles
Of places he’d gone and things he’d seen.

His kin had been here
Long before mine.
His kin will remain
Long after I’m gone.
He was just a baby
An inch long
Give or take.
Before I let him go
I asked one thing of him:
“Remember me.”
Maybe he will.

Severe weather

I heard another ad on the radio. I think it was for a business selling windows. The ad said “Our area has a lot of severe weather. Hot. Cold. Whatever.”

I’m used to the hot and cold. It’s the whatever that scares me.

“Boy, the weather is really bad outside.”
“What is it doing?”
“I CAN’T EVEN TELL.”

Z

I love the letter Z. Without it, eppelins would sail the skies, while ebras would roam the savannas. And who would ever attend Umba classes?

Save the Snapping Turtle

Some people help little old ladies across the street.

I help baby snapping turtles across the street.

What? It was cute. It was only one inch long. Yes, I know it will grow to be bigger.

Besides, there are more snapping turtles that need help crossing the street around here than little old ladies.

Freeze!

Just heard a radio news story about how a bank robber demanded money from a teller with a gun.

I think they meant a bank robber with a gun demanded money from a teller, unless they’re arming bank tellers these days. And if they’re arming bank tellers, I will be even more polite next time I go to the bank.

This does bring to mind a comic image, though.

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I walk into the bank.

“FREEZE!” the teller says. “GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY. I HAVE A GUN, AND I KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT.”

Norm!

There’s a new show on CBS called Scorpion. The ad has a line to the effect that “I assembled a team of the most brilliant people in the world. Not necessarily the most normal.”

Uh… dude? If they’re the most brilliant people in the world, BY definition they’re not the most normal. This is true of any group defined by a characteristic of being at an extreme. By that very fact, they are REMOVED from the norm.

A group of geniuses? Not normal.
A group of Olympic athletes? Not normal.
A group of billionaires? Not normal.

It’s a stupid line to use in promoting a show about a team of brilliant people, and thus it undercuts the very premise of the show.

“Kill your darlings…”

In keeping with the writing advice to kill your darlings, I am going to write a sequel to Peter Pan where the whole Darling family dies.

“NO! NOT WENDY!” Peter Pan wails.

Yes, Peter. ALL the Darlings.

The surprise ending? It was Tinker Bell who did it.