Big baby Alex

He is teaching me how to clean. He is teaching me how to drive. He is teaching me how to work. He will teach me how to teach. He is taking my self-esteem away and he tries to replace my God. Have a good day, Alex! You saved my life. Copyright July, 2008 Marie Neumann, Schuylkill Haven

Red wolf

One afternoon I drove to the pound, because I needed a watch dog. On my mind was a mean, ill tempered schnauzer, who would bark his head off. The pound was closed. Behind the fence were two playful puppies. Black mutt looked like Labrador and another mutt on long legs and a cute muzzle of a terrier. The puppy of air dale noticed me and curtsied. I told it: "I will come to pick you up tomorrow." The doggie pretended to understand and continued in it's play. Second day I filled out adoption paper, payed $30.00 and the dog was mine. The lady gave me a searching look and she said: "She will be a big dog." Betsy (in Texan dialect Betsie) received a pink comforter in the kitchen corner by the table, and because she was my first dog we began to learn about each other. She needed everything: bowls, collar, leash, puppy food, and also toys. We purchased two toddler's gates, because Betsy chewed off kitchen wallpaper, where she could reach and tasted sheet rock. She chewed legs of three chairs and began to work on new rocking chair. She reached kitchen counter,helped herself to plastic jar of honey, broke the lid off, and in one sweet afternoon polished jar spike clean. Housebreaking took four months. After that she dragged me for walks. We had some expenses with the dog. She needed shots, especially rabies shot, and hysterectomy. When she was still under anesthesia, they pulled one spare tooth ($8.00). After we left veterinary office, she opened her mouth wide with the hole after extracted tooth with the look of child who was hurt. I needed a manual how to bring up the dog. She never learned "sit". She laid down instead. The command "come": sometimes she came, sometimes she didn't. Whistling also worked only sometimes. She ran away. What was helpful when the owner of another dog with the help of his dog were able to bring her back. Meanwhile, Betsy grew up becoming taller than coffee table, grew coarse hairy pants and her black tail with the white tip changed into proud flag. She had beautiful colors. Black back, white knee-highs, white chest, and red color here and there. She was not easy to handle. Maybe I didn't know how to handle this dog, but we had a respect for each other. I admired her. She was a beautiful when she was catching and tossing her toys in the air, when she galloped, or ran in the circles; jumped in the tall grass. I felt privileged to have such a beautiful dog. "She needs training." I never got into it, later, later, not this month, maybe next month. Betsy chewed seven leashes and two collars. We purchased a choker and chained leash. She learned "give me five" and I was allowed to pick her flies and cut out grass burrs. Every day she became redder and redder. She new how to shell pecans, lick colonies of worms under the rock and pieces of wood, she shelled the pine cones to eat seeds inside. She still liked to run away. On Thursday, March 6, early in the morning, we went for a walk in the park. Nobody was there, so I took off her leash. I liked to watch her run. She listened to each command. After the walk she went back inside the car. I didn't put the leash back on her. We got out of the car - and she took off. I called her, whistled. She didn't come back. I went to the work and when there was daylight I came back to look for her. I repeated calling and whistling. I returned back to the work. At 8:30 in the morning I received an emergency phone call. Betsy was hit by the car and she was dead. The pound took her body away. I didn't see it. Sometimes I dream about Betsy fighting in big dog fights and she is fighting bravely like red wolf. Note: red wolves are near to extinction. They are as big as German shepherds and their weight is about sixty pounds. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Staphenville, Spring 2008

Paranoia

"They are sniffing." "What are they sniffing?" "I don't know." "What do you know?" "They are sniffing." Go away, Salieri. You didn't change your socks. You stink! Copyright Marie Neumann, Stephenville, Winter 2007

Lawless land

I shall marry Cathy in the lawless land. She will take all my money, so she could buy more clothes. I shall die in the lawless land. Finally Cathy will be my widow according to the law in the lawless land. Copyright 2007, Marie Neumann Stephenville, Texas

Tell me the story

Tell me the story, my love. What kind do you want to hear? The one about the little birds, how they killed and ate them all. Tell me the story, my love, about the hedgehogs, how they skinned them alive, because they envied them their spines. Tell me the story, my love. What kind do you want to hear? The one about mental institutions full of mental patients, because somebody was playing with their minds to cover their crimes. Tell me the story, my love. What kind do you want to hear? The one with the good end. Here is the story about how snow was falling on the city of Pottsville and all people were sleeping, and sleeping, and sleeping. Suddenly the fire siren went off and all firemen had an emergency, and all policemen had an emergency, and all in the health care had an emergency. All victims, when they didn't burn alive, were scared and homeless. You asked for the good ending story, my love. This is good end, because all victims received very quick help. I wish you good night, my love. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann February 2009, Pottsville

Rainy day

Two cats and one old man sleep whole day. One female cat sleeps in the bathroom shelf. Male cat curls in the sink and the man just lies on the sofa one rainy day. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann July 2008, Sch. Haven

The trip

Misha, Sasha and Masha drove in Misha's Mercedes to pick up some mushrooms. In the woods they found one broken recliner, two sofas, several tires and one old mattress. They didn't find any mushrooms. On their way back they stopped at McDonald for lunch. Misha then sold her Mercedes to somebody who likes these old, junky cars and doesn't mind they do not have any heating or air conditioning. Sasha went next day to Kindergarten in his new, smart uniform. He told about his trip to the woods. On Wednesday whole kindergarten with their teacher and her husband drove back to the woods and picked up all trash: empty bottles, papers and boxes from McDonald. Teacher's husband and his friend lifted recliner, two sofas, tires, old mattress and other stuff and put them on the truck. They also picked all broken glass. The forest now looked clean. The teacher took pictures of her class. The pictures were on a bulletin board and in the local newspaper and everybody was proud of children and their teacher. The husband and his friend kept change for all sold cans. It didn't cover price of the gas, they said. What happened to Masha? She walked home and crawled into the bed. She is still sleeping. Copyright (c) 2007 Marie Neumann Stephenville, Texas

A la folksong

Mosquitoes are biting me, fleas are biting me. My love doesn't want me. I still want her. What am I going to do about her? For mosquitoes and fleas I am going to buy a spray. What about my love? I all ready forgot about her. What was her name? Copyright 2007 Marie Neumann Stephenville, Texas

Stray cat

Have a mercy Have a mercy Have a mercy I need just few morsels of food for myself and for my kittens If you don't have I shall eat old bread Just little bit of food You are my life You starved me to the death It was my ninth life Copyright 2007 Marie Neumann Stephenville, Texas

Doormat

Will you keep me when I am silly? Will you keep me, when I don't know where to turn to? Will you befriend me even if I have nothing to give back? Will you protect me when black birds are circling the sky of my town? Will you keep me when paranoia will take over? Copyright July 2008 Marie Neumann

How is it done?

I wanted to be a wife. Wives do not guzzle and do not scribble poems and stories; do not hide them in the old suitcases. Wives bring home groceries, balance the bottle of ketchup on the top of the bag and kick the head of the cabbage in front of them. Wives cook, wash the dishes, clean and run vacuum cleaner, take out the garbage, clean a litter box, and feed the cat. Wives do the laundry, mend the clothes, darn the socks, suck their sore thumb, and iron. Wives take care of the flower beds, rake the leaves, polish the shoes, knit and crochet, clean and help. Wives nod, agree and listen, and serve enthusiastically in the day, and in the night, too. Wives do not talk back, are not stubborn, and do not guzzle, do not smoke. I wanted to be a wife. "A wife is the neck, which moves the head." I was told. How is it done? I wanted to be a wife. A husband preferred younger, giggling women. How to lure him away from them? How to lure him on? How is it done? Copyright (c) 2007 Marie Neumann, Stephenville, Texas

Dr. Seuss motif

South Carolina, North Carolina, North Dakota, South Dakota, Upper Texas, Lower Texas, East Texas, West Texas, how does it rhyme? Lunch in Upper Texas, dinner in Arkansas, breakfast in Tennessee. How does it sound, do you see? Breakfast in West Texas, lunch in New Mexico, How does it rhyme, don't you see? Lunch in East Texas, dinner in Louisiana, do you want to have dinner with me? How does it sound, do you see? Breakfast in Lower Texas, dinner in Mexico, what about Bernie, will she go? How does it sound, how does it rhyme? Don't you see? Copyright 2008 Marie Neumann, Pottsville, PA

Flood

It rained on Monday. It rained on Tuesday. It rained on Wednesday in Stevenville, Texas. Do you know what this prediction means? Stevenville gets flooded, all poor, little houses will get flooded, because they sit, like ducks, in the flood zone. It also rained on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. On Sunday you could see the tops of the roofs in the middle of the lake. All my precious possessions are gone, when my cat and I are paddling toward Gulf of Mexico. Behind us in the church Jesus Christ's closed eyes are staring into the lake. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Stephenville, 2008