This week’s assortment.

5828.
are you in line said the old guy
in kind of a nasty tone, I thought
I turned to look OMG it’s Dad.
Doubletake times two.

5829.
in the refrigerator we are reminded
we never think things will turn out like this
until the green furry mold on the cheese reminds us

5830.
a twenty-dollar bill
torn in half
is not ten dollars

 
5831.
The nightmare
hunts you
all across your sleeping body

5832.
the flour swears
the lump stares
the gravy glares
the tablecloth bewares

5833.
Lemonpeel oh Lemonpeel
calls out the cook, grater in hand
May I offer you an exfoliation?

5834.
The climate judges
all the people
and all their BTU’s

5835.
It’s an invisible annoyance
but it sure scratches the itch
With relief, you lose your temper.

 
5836.
there is a gas station
at the marina
that this tiny sailboat will never need

5837.
That inviting green velvet chair
exactly askew in the front hall?
Don’t ever try to sit there. It’s the cat’s.

5838.
You twitch
but it looks final.
You will stay dead.

5839.
Pretentious and cramped his handwriting
that was not on the check
he would not and did not write out

5840.
the unblinking gray cat
indifferent
as to whether you forgive him or not

 
5841.
no one believes
the lazy flattery
until the smooth magic smacks them right in the face

5842.
The weary library book who feels
its popularity is due to a risqué misprint:
Imposter syndrome.

5843.
an unused moon in a spare-parts sky –
a nobody at this galactic address
or a potential bright light waiting in the wings?

5844.
you’re asleep in my office after lunch:
the guy who never fails to remind me
why he’s the boss

5845.
the moon rocket drives by
the lady in the red silk dress at the wheel
her radar beam eyes scan you. She keeps going.

 
5846.
The paste here, it’s most tempting, you wrote me.
I lived the rest of my life –
and with what consequences! –
never knowing you’d meant to say pasta.

5847.
the vegetable curry
measures the diners
and begins to squeeze

5848.
though endlessly blushing
this small ceramic piglet
has never told any of my secrets

5849.
fold in half your acrimony
enjoy the symmetry of
easing up on things for a change