The prompt was,
"Write a poem that contains the phrase 'George, he's gone now."
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George, he's gone now.
I never heard the door slam
and there wasn't a note on the counter
the way there usually is when he's
at the store, or running errands.
To be honest, It's probably
Harsh words were exchanged last night.
But they seemed to be borne on the
I thought that's the way most parents
were talking to their children.
He's probably at the bar.
Or maybe he's with That Girl.
The one with the Nose Ring.
Possibly both. Who knows anymore?
All I know is, his ass needs to get
Even with the foreclosure freeze,
I'm not sure we'll be able to
keep making payments after
Not when your unemployment
is about to expire
and my Rheumatoid is considered
A Prior Condition.
he's Your Son;
why don't You say