Moozle

Fronnie Nonnie and Fratta Pooch
Came with a zip and a zay.
They said to me in joy and glee,
“We’re going to moozle today!”
So off we went to sing and dance
And moozle the day away.
We ate sweet snaffles
And drank jub juice;
We climbed the lop trees
And rode a ganoosh.
Fronnie Nonnie fell in the splush,
And Fratta Pooch found a red mush.
We laughed so silly at the big bazoon,
And then we chased a rare blue foon.
We moozled and moozled and moozled some more.
We moozled on in to the Forest of Lore.
And when the day was over and done,
It was hard to end what had just begun.
But day turned night, and the dark things grew.
We had to turn back, for this we knew.
So we moozled our way
From the wild to the trail.
As the stars traded winks,
We heard the wipple wail.
We all said “Goodbye!”
And zipped home with a smile.
We’ll meet real soon
And moozle after awhile.

To Satch - by Paul Vesey
Watch Michael perform a poem by Paul Vesey

Willie Azma - by Michael Beadle
Watch Michael perform an original poem about a street musician in Washington, D.C.


Out of Season Plump as beachballs hollowed by sticky spoons, a row of glowing heads grinning missing teeth lined the backyard walkway for our feast of the dead. When day broke, the spell lifted, candle flames extinguished. But the heads remained. Each face slowly melted like a wicked witch. Squinty eyes and crooked noses withered into worm candy until even the ants ignored them. Under moonlight, they bleached into paperskin crusts of their former selves, ghostly footprints lost in snow. Now the mower sputters passing over those spots where the grass won’t grow.