Dry Humor

After a tough day editing walruses 
I like to tuck in the feisty tiger cubs and take a warm dry shower

It’s all about

Stripping naked in the penthouse window

Fluffing up the old groin-Tribble
and meticulously toweling off the dust of the day

Finishing up with a dry washcloth

Pits, ass-crack, toes, 
Eyes, forehead, nose, cheeks, chin & scrotum
Or what's left of it

Like I said, they’re feisty tigers.

I dislike certain moist things, and I’m revolted by what they’re called

Like Nautical sauce. Shimmering lip-gloss. Lipids. 

Moist things sound moist.
Lotions, ointments, calming balms, unguents, creams, lotions, salves, nectars, moisturizers, spritzers, liniments, pastes, secret sauces, mustards, bath bombs, oils of palms, extracted oils, non-essential oils, rainforest mud-pack soils, dabs, dollops, Go-Gurts, pudding squirts, Nipple Gels, Jelly-Jams, that dripping protoplasm in the cans with hams.

I don’t want those things in, on, under, above, or anywhere near me

Not on my eyes, forehead, nose, cheeks, chin or cat toys.

I don’t want those things on my dry white pen

It makes it slippery and unmanageable

And I don’t appreciate those things gumming up my white paper

Staining, soiling, greasing, lubricating, oozing and extruding

Team that with an unguent-coated pen and all hell breaks loose.

Powder puff lady muff, that’s me. 

Now, where did I put that pen full of ideas?