Demands Increasing

Strange knocks on the door
Tend to unfold into
Odd encounters with the postman
A glass of water, a postage stamp licked
He wants more than the mouse and his cookie
Ever did
Pushing his foot in the doors with pleas
For a glass of ice water in July,
A quart of motor oil
To send him on his way,
A piece of duct tape for his shoe
And by the time I have the checkbook out
Ready to sign my name in one hundred
Dollar script,
It is much too late
And I forget how to say no.

Of Course

Walter: How many do you want?
Peter: I'm not hungry. I don't need any crepes.
Walter: Oh, don't be ridiculous. You were abducted, of course you need crepes!

Afraid So

- Jeanne Marie Beaumont

Is it starting to rain?
Did the check bounce?
Are we out of coffee?
Is this going to hurt?
Could you lose your job?
Did the glass break?
Was the baggage misrouted?
Will this go on my record?
Are you missing much money?
Was anyone injured?
Is the traffic heavy?
Do I have to remove my clothes?
Will it leave a scar?
Must you go?
Will this be in the papers?
Is my time up already?
Are we seeing the understudy?
Will it affect my eyesight?
Did all the books burn?
Are you still smoking?
Is the bone broken?
Will I have to put him to sleep?
Was the car totaled?
Am I responsible for these charges?
Are you contagious?
Will we have to wait long?
Is the runway icy?
Was the gun loaded?
Could this cause side effects?
Do you know who betrayed you?
Is the wound infected?
Are we lost?
Will it get any worse?