Ode to the Yellow Pages

You will never see, I believe
Something as artfully industrious
And hopeful as pages like these

To work all through the year
Gathering from all who sell product
And services from far and near

Putting it altogether, the offers
The artistry, locations, phone
Numbers of all good proffers

This busy, well done deed
Organized by categories you
Know and should want or need

Believing value will be shown
Proprietors and sellers in faith
Buy their presence to be known

Today these pages are seldom perused
As internet search is all the rage
And books are evermore rarely used

These pieces of yesterday’s industrious art
That raised young boy’s bottoms
And ensured success for excursions before depart

Will now depart the Americana stage
Without nary a bow or applause
For all their fame came in a forgotten age!

… Let your fingers do the walking…

Being Normal

All the boxes assiduously receive their check
The cards have been accounted as in the deck
And the rungs have been climbed without a skip
While expending great energy to keep a tight grip
For fear of failure, fear of a stumble and fall
As well as exposure of philosopher and poet’s call
To explore and dream in color and hues at night
To experience dreams of free soaring and flight
Then to awake and calmly check the next box
As normal, never acknowledging that missing sock
That may be driving us crazy deep inside
But we are normal, sort of, on the outside