Samuel Menashe died on August 22, 2011, at 85 years of age. Now I know what you are thinking “Damn, I didn’t even know he was sick”.
He wrote these little short poems that no one knew much about and now he is dead, gone. So I got to thinking, “Hey, his non-job is open!” and I have a boy who needs one...!
“A flock of little boats/ Tethered to the shore/ Drifts in still water/ Prows dip, nibbling”
“Inklings sans ink/ Cling to the dry/ Point of the pen/ Whose stem I mouth/ Not knowing when/ The truth will out”
“Pity us/ Beside the sea/ On the sands/ So briefly”
“The hollow of morning/ Holds my soul still/ As water in a jar”
“The water flows into the drain. It seems wasteful.”
“For breakfast, coffee and toast will do fine.”
“Beeping noise. It shoots through my head.”
"Come, come to the Dork side. We've got Pi"
“When I go to heaven, I want it to be like an American cheese omelet…gooey with some fried parts crunchy”
“When I spring off docks, I don’t spring like I used to.”
“Standing at the beach. My feet and a cigar. The sand will last.”
“Catfish skull. It’s dead.”
“An old house, being renovated. Floors sanded and restored. People are not like that.”
“Hot Boiled Peanuts. South Carolina’s official State snack food. I bought some from the Mennonites.”
“Buttons on an upholstered couch. Sucking in on itself. Like a wormhole.”
“Animated Spock said the space cloud was like a huge bull, grazing in the pasture of what is the universe”
"Managing in the middle. Employees below, bosses above. My murdered life."
"Anna Karenina had an empty void she struggled to fill. St. Petersburg had no 7-11. Sluuurpeeee. In Russian"
"If your life was a book, would you skip to the end? I'd look for the sex parts."