The QT…with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe.
QTMama and I decided to write poems about each other. So, without further ado, I offer you:
The QT
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over my dog – Little Filthy’s – loud, obnoxious snore,
While I nodded, nearly sleeping, suddenly there came a beeping
that thrust me up, nearly leaping, sending my phone down upon the floor.
“It is just QT,” I muttered softly, “texting me some more -
Oh, That woman…she’s quite a chore.”
Grabbing for my Blackberry, I read about a night so scary
Of QT’s dates – the men are always such a bore.
Tiredly, I read her typing and then wished that we were skyping
Her typos causing me some griping, if only she would score!
“You must be drunk,” I messaged back, “did you drink the liquor store?”
“Just three martinis…maybe more.”

Just a random attorney writing about daily life with Little Filthy, my rotten dog.