"You wanna start something, tough guy?"
I'm Not from Jersey. My Hair Isn't Enough
Quirky Doesn't Even Begin to Describe It
I'm In Need of Some Bad Medicine
Fiction: Very Slightly Off Balance
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year
I Can't Guarantee You Won't Be Arrested
The Key to Living in New Jersey
Poetry Corner: Something's Fishy
Stuff That You Didn't Even Want to Know
Stuff That Doesn't Suck Like a Hoover
Poetry Corner
My Life as a Fish
By Joyce Vonderheid (my mom)
Soft and lacy and
gold,
Samantha waves at me from her watery home on my dresser. I'd love to be
so pretty, so utterly lovely.
Quite,
peaceful and listening,
Samantha is always waiting for me when I come home from school.
I'd love to be left to quietly be.
Gently sliding down,
Samantha spits
out stones as I lay in my bed turing over my day.
I'd love to pick and choose my own way.
Carefully picking
and choosing,
Samantha tests the food that I sprinkle on the surface for her to eat.
I'd love to have such attention.
Friendly, gently
curious,
Samantha comes to the surface when I enter the room.
I love having such a friend.
I've made up my mind
I've flatly decided.
Don't ask me to go fishing!
I won't eat any dinner with fins from the water!
How could you not understand,
What a life has a fish?