Lew Gordon

Lew Gordon: Private Eye
(In the style of a film noir limerick)

He hides behind the tree in the park,
lurks in the shadows and the dark,
following at night,
he stays out of sight,
and he never even leaves a mark.

He’s become the master of disguise,
the privatest of private eyes.
Quick-change like chameleon,
speaks Italian and Korean.
The silent, slickest spy of spies.

Sewing trenchcoats to fit in,
of wallpaper, wood or tin,
hides in the fog,
or dressed as a dog
he has even painted his skin.

So when you feel someone’s  in your midst
know that Lew Gordon exists.
It’s not a mirage,
he’s in camouflage,
And now you’re on his watch list.

“Crow” McCay

“Crow” McCay

Perched up on the telephone pole,

sits a quiet, lonely soul.

Waiting, watching silently,

before swooping down violently.

In this town, there’s no lost-and-found

“Crow” picks up goodies dropped on the ground.

Coins, and jewels that folks may drop,

he can see it all from way up top.

Collecting and scavenging, keeping a stash

then off to the “Crow Bar” to spend his cash.

Just a common thief, a lonely birder,

working alone, avoiding things like murder.

First to the street before the sweepers,

finders keepers, losers weepers.

Illustration Friday: “Lonely”