Antlers are like hairstyles for deer.

And they are more dear to them

than mousse.

***

On another subject

(so this post not done yet):

At a restaurant, I saw a giant jar labelled “WHEY”,

and the unexpected sight of this surprised me

to the point where I was thinking “no way!”

Then the jar somehow answered me back “WHEY”!

***

National Mousse Day (the 30th of November)

and National Mason Jar Day (also 30th of November)

remind me of these thoughts (in this post: they’re entered).

These 2 poems Antlers and Jar of WHEY were in Milpitas Post issues;

the memory of both my poems still continues.

A customer is returning a HUGE item

since it does not fit into her car.

Her mistake reminds a cashier how stupid people are.

The cashier did not say this reminder out loud

since he’s giving her and people the benefit of the doubt.

At least this customer’s smart enough to return that item,

and free herself from the burden that she was buyin’.

***

Lots more shopping after Thanksgiving (in November)

reminds me of these rhymes (in this post: they’re entered).

This poem Customer Returning was in a Milpitas Post issue;

the memory of my poem still does continue.

At a store’s checkout counter, a customer asks his girlfriend,

“Did you want me to pay? Or did you want to pay?”

Then she replied, “I told you: I left my wallet in the car.”

So he paid the price, and they are still together.

A lesson he learned from her is that he’s got to remember.

***

More shopping after Thanksgiving (in November)

reminds me of these thoughts (in this post: they’re entered).

This poem Who Should Pay? was in a Milpitas Post issue;

the memory of my poem still does continue.

Stray skeletal urban plaza sheep got caught

in a giant fish bone.

So that cart got rolled back to its herd

(to clear that parking lot zone).

***

A shopping cart squeaks

like a horror movie’s shrieks.

The sounds of that shopping cart might annoy all;

so its wheels could use some oil.

***

Lots of shopping after Thanksgiving (in late November)

remind me of these rhymes (in this post: they’re entered).

These 2 poems Plaza Sheep and Shopping Cart were in Milpitas Post issues;

the memory of both my poems still continues.

At a Vintage Thrift Shop

A hanger (slid and shoved along

against the round clothes rack)

sounds the shrill indelible noise

from pushed aside garment that failed to attract.

It agreed (yet struggles) with inertia.

There’s a chance to make and hug a new and suitable friend.

That outgrown outfit piercingly pleaded

to be reconsidered and worn again.

Sometimes though it must be declined;

certain combinations just won’t work.

That shriek can also be a two-way defense,

a scarring resolve to move on and search.

***

Secondhand Sunday (1st Sunday after Thanksgiving, in November)

reminds me of these rhymes (in this post: they’re entered).

This poem At a Vintage Thrift Shop was in a Milpitas Post issue;

the memory of my poem still does continue.

Curbside pickup is smoother than a hiccup.

It’s harmless like a sit-up.

And for a safe trip? Yup.

***

A long line waiting

and eager to consume things

that are not really needed

is a many-headed serpent.

***

Shopping and Black Friday (after Thanksgiving, in November)

remind me of these thoughts (in this post: they’re entered).

That 1st poem Curbside is in Orangevale View

on page 2 and 19; here’s the link to its issue:

https://ovview.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/issue10-vol-13-5.29-web.pdf .

That 2nd poem Long Line was in a Milpitas Post issue;

the memory of both my poems still does continue.

While thinking about stuffing,

I also became thankful for croutons.

Not just because of their taste, texture, and appearance,

but also because of their otherworldly science-like sound.

Klingons, Vulcans, Romulans, Decepticons, Krypton,

electrons, protons, neutrons… croutons.

***

Thanksgiving (in the U.S., the 4th Thursday of November)

reminds me of these thoughts (in this post: they’re entered).

This poem Croutons was in a Milpitas Post issue;

the memory of my poem still does continue.

In a kitchen, a vixen stirs the uplifting.

She’s cooking with her partner.

He thanks her, and she thanks him

(for what they’re making,

spicy like it’s Cajun).

***

National Tie One On Day (day before Thanksgiving, in November)

reminds me of these rhymes (in this post: they’re entered).

This poem In a Kitchen was in a Milpitas Post issue;

the memory of my poem still does continue.

At a clothing store, I went to the dressing room

but there were no sauces

and no salads for anyone

to sample inside that dressing room…

***

Before Thanksgiving turkey gobbling,

there is a Halloween goblin.

Perhaps it takes the form

of that tradition and Black Friday.

***

Nearing Thanksgiving feast and Black Friday (in November)

remind me of these thoughts (in this post: they’re entered).

These 2 poems At a Clothing Store and Before Thanksgiving were in Milpitas Post issues;

the memory of both my poems still continues.

Turkeys cross a road. A park is their abode.

Sticking close together appears to be their code.

Their little ones are their hope.

Feathers are their coat.

They’re popular in November

to American folks.

Turkeys cross a road…

***

Adopt a Turkey Month (November)

reminds me of these rhymes (in this post: they’re entered).

This poem Turkeys is in Orangevale View

on page 22; here’s the link to its issue:

https://ovview.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/issue-22-vol-12-final-Reduce.pdf .

My other poem Festival is on that page too;

the memory of both still does continue.