If I correctly parsley’d your sentence, Juhi, you want me to cleverly fold some paper into an oregano. To do so, I’d have to take my cloves off. Wait — someone’s at the door. “Cumin!”

No worries — it was just Ginger. She’s not happy about caring for my puss, Mus, and my dog, Gar. There’s mustards in the litter box. And she hates seeing garlic himself. Still, I think she’s trying to curry favor with me.

Now, she’s peppering me with questions. “That’s enough!”, sesame.

Anyway, I promised to write some resistance poetry for that nutMeg. And since thyme’s not on my side, you’ll have to wait un Dill tomorrow.

P.S. Please don’t get mad about saffron.

For the Squad: Roy Mark Jack and honorary member, Guérin

Written by

Engaged citizen, poet, musician, humorist, family man. I value irreverence, soulfulness, and a big heart. Offering insight, introspection, shock & aw shucks!

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