Jay Yoo

While working out at the gym I noticed a streak of brown on my back.

Not just any streak, butt one located close to the crack.
Could it be a mishap of sorts from the clean up of crap?

Perhaps, but not so fast. 
A squat at the toilet I did not have.

Then what could it be so close and so true?
Was it mud from the ground or some strange kind of goo?

That streak is so strange and so suspiciously placed,
Was it a joke from my kid or something from space?

No time to think, I have to workout,
But now there is a smell and my nose is aroused!

Don’t bother and maybe no one will see.
But that streak is so strange? What could it be?
It’s driving me crazy, please end this mystery!

A sit on the floor I stretch and touch my toes,
I stretch my limbs and let it go.

Wait a minute? What is that grass on my heel?
How does it stick and stand like it calls to be pealed? 

In a flash this mystery streak on the back of my shirt I knew!
While cleaning the yard I stepped in some poo.

When I stretched my right quad my heel left a mark.
In the end my dog had the last laugh, perhaps she really is that smart? 

Never cut the lawn and workout in the same pair of shoes.

Here is a poem that caught my imagination. Like being “green,” my goal is to do as little harm as possible to insects. This poem by Alex Boyd pretty much sums up as to why.

When a roach is killed I utter a curse to accompany
the death but spiders (I have decided)
are more noble, and each time one is killed
a sad haiku that should have been written
goes quietly missing.

Is it true that when we kill an insect we don’t
know if it was an ancestor back to watch us?
Some are either noble or stupid, holding
still while we close a tissue around it,
appearing to honour it, drape it in a cloak
before crushing it, to a broken spot, legs torn off.

Is it true that when we die we feel
insect justice, every one we ever killed
crawling on our bodies while we offer
explanations: sorry, you surprised me in my kitchen

at night but for what it’s worth, I went back
to my lover in the dark and tried to find her
in the bed - her leg here and torso there, not
where I expected - we were crushed by the darkness

by Alex Boyd