ass · poetry · prayer

Inspirational Ass Prayer

I just wanted to take a moment out today to ask if you are reading this


Feel comfy if you are? I bet you do. Probably taking that comfy ass for granted, aren’t ya? I can’t blame ya.

I am sitting on my ass writing this here post.

I’ve been up a few times today, doing typical boring Saturday crap. Laundry, cleaning cat boxes, emptying and loading the dishwasher, I even did a thigh and lower core workout and I lifted weights.

Also, please take a moment to congratulate me:

I successfully ordered and will later pick up our weekly groceries via curbside pickup! I texted my adorable niece who does this work at my store and I believe she will be doing this for me. I am so grateful. I always liked buying my own groceries every single Thursday. We have dietary restrictions–no dairy can we enjoy–so I have to always read labels because did you know dairy is in all kinds of things? Shit you’d never expect? Anyway, I’m considering this a victory. Pretty soon with chemo coursing through my body, I guess my immune system is going to take it’s first shot at not being perfect. Won’t that be fun. Small price to pay, I guess. Hard to accept anyway. I never really get sick.


Back to my ass.

My ass has always been not normal, like most everybody else. I’ll spare you the details, but it’s never just been incognito. To be honest, it kinda sucks.

So I sit on it and it freaks me out because I know I have something in there now. And I’m going to have to get it out. And it’s not going to be a walk in the park, either. In fact, it’s probably gonna suck. Small price to pay, once again. Rather, make that large price to pay. Do it anyway is going to be a must.

I dream of a day down the line this year where my ass might no longer bother me. Is that a sad dream or what.

So, if you are reading this and you’re sitting on your ass pain-free, utter a small prayer of thankfulness. Let me lead you if you don’t mind:

Ass upon which I sit,
orifice from where I shit
large or small, squishy or bony
You are a comfort and my homey
thank you for cushioning me
when I need rest
That I rarely need to acknowledge you
is simply the best
And ass, let’s lift up Susan’s rear
and others whose are the same
Seal the deal, let them heal
We pray this in Booty’s name.


give thanks · prayer · short story · Thanksgiving · writing

Circle Round

Turkey sat at the head of the beautifully-decorated table. He paused for a moment and smiled at everyone seated with him.

Then he reached out and joined hands with the Stuffing who in turn picked up Deviled Eggs hand who then clasped hands with Mashed Potatoes (whose new little one Gravy slept pressed against her chest).

Since Mashed Potatoes had her other hand full, her wife Green Bean Casserole picked up hands with Dinner Roll who reached out and picked up Weird Jello Salad’s hand who smiled and joined hands with her new husband, Relish Tray, who then picked up Old Man Pumpkin Pie’s hand who then gave a kiss to his wife of 50 years, Cool Whip, as he took her sweet soft wrinkled hand.

Grandma Cool Whip then closed the circle as she joined hands with Turkey.

They said their prayer to Mother Earth, thanking her for the bountiful blessings in their lives including this day that they were sharing together.

Then they looked at the loaded table which held massive amounts of sushi, Dominos pizza, ice cream, cotton candy and doughnuts.

And they ate.

Like pigs.

Til their stomachs were stretched and uncomfortable and they needed Turkey to go out to Walgreens to get some Tums.

The End.