dry as the moon

Written for:  The Twiglets #147 – “dry as the moon”

Make my martini
dry as the moon.

His skin felt arid
as the moon’s surface.

a Supermoon 
looks like you can reach to touch it
an illusion

There was a man from Atlanta
Who dressed up each year as Santa
He put on too much weight
could not keep the sleigh straight
He soon dented the moon, and was handed a transfer.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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4 Responses to dry as the moon

  1. Misky says:

    Your Santa limerick is hysterical!


  2. Jules says:

    Life is full of illusions… Remember that Dusty Springfield song? (I’ve looked at live (love) from both sides now…?

    Double points for the Limerick 🙂


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