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Post-it Poem

We have a sink in our office area. For some inexplicable reason, from time to time, someone leaves dirty dishes on the counter. We have no dishwasher. We have no maid or even a butler. So, how does this person (or persons) think the dishes will miraculously be washed? My guess is that it’s a dude. My opinion is that only a guy would put a dirty dish on a counter, AT WORK, and expect it to get washed by someone else.

 

Anyway, someone created a laminated, reusable sign, for such occurrences, that is placed near the dirty dishes that says, “Please be courteous, and take your dishes downstairs.” And this is because they actually have a dishwasher in the first floor Café.

 

You’d think that by now the hint would be taken, but alas, a fork and knife appeared the other day. Once again the sign was placed, and this time a post-it note was added that read: “That includes flatwear.”

 

When I came in this morning, I saw that an impromptu post-it note bombing took place. The result, I believe, is the spontaneous, stream-of-consciousness poem I present to you now:

 

please be courteous and
take your dishes downstairs

 

that includes flatware

 

also known as cutlery

 

funny

 

you’re my boy blue

 

“do or do not” there is no “try” -Yoda

 

easier done than said

 

doubt your doubts

 

your mama doesn’t work here…

 

if she did, she’d be pissed

 

what you say about my mama?!?

 

LOLZ

 

I just want this to go over

 

the edge and down

 

now I’m over the edge

 

stick a fork in me

 

I’m done

 

red rover

 

red rover

 

send Whirlpool

 

right over

 

all work and no play

 

make Jack a very dull boy

 

threat level RED

Snowcake*


a sheet-cake-laden table

Is that real ICE-ing?

Or is that FROST-ing?

Regardless, it certainly

is ent-ICE-ing

Yep…

pretty n-ICE

 
*No two snowcakes are alike.

Masquerade 


The field hides its face

Wearing an ivory mask

The guise will soon melt

Snowscape


untrodden powder

cold blankets everything

the land lies dormant

Grandma

Here’s another drawing I felt compelled to do from my mother’s old photo album.

 

This is Anna Vargas, my grandma at age 21. Look at her face. She had no idea of what her future held. There were hard times ahead for her, like there were for so many other poor immigrants. Her faith and no-nonsense attitude saw her through it all. 

 

The photo upon which this is based was taken in 1921. 

The Pugilist

During the holiday, my sister showed me an old photo album that belonged to our mother. Lots of pictures were missing from the black corner holders, but there remained enough to keep me fascinated for some time. It didn’t take long before I singled out several that I wanted to draw.

 

“JOE DUTRA – THE PUGILIST” was one such photo. I traced over my mother’s printing, which isn’t a whole lot different from the style I use when I draw my cartoons. I don’t know who this gentleman was. The only Dutra I remember was a beautiful cheerleader I got to know towards the end of our senior year in high school. I have a feeling they are related, but I have no idea where she is, so I can ask.

 

And “Joe” is about as common a first name in the Portuguese community as the last name “Smith” is in the United States. When I was growing up, literally 99.9% of the Portuguese men I knew were named Joe, Frank (my middle name and the name of both of my grandfathers), Tony, or Manuel. 

The Erniverse #24