I am not sure what possesses me to do it. It is not always considered a manly pursuit, but the fact is, I occasionally like to write poetry.

Today, while I was at my wife’s toy store, I decided to pick the most unlikely topic I could think of for a poem. Since I was already writing an article on apoptosis – which is programmed cell death – it was a likely unlikely choice.

I scribbled it on the back of an envelope, so I am including a scan of the original work for the gratification of biographers and historians at a later date (certainly not right now).

Apoptosis Poem

Here is the text:

A cell causing halitosis,
Went to a doctor for diagnosis
Said the doctor, “You ought’a know this.
The best option is apoptosis.

Well, you can tell me how you think it turned out! Don’t feel like you have to show any respect for my false modesty. BTW, all unfortunate remarks and comments will be deleted.

Well, I try never to waste good words, especially when I have labored over them for a long period. I was going to enter my Grezundl and the Frog Prince in a contest. But it turns out that the book is a tad bit short on words. The min number is 50,000. Grezundl is a bare 17,000 or so. An excellent book, though. Why didn’t I make it longer? You try writing 50,000 words of sparkling wit!

Truthfully, I have done it before and it took me a whole year to do it. Suffice it to say, that Grezundl and the Frog Prince is a great story. By the way, the words I intend not wasting are contained in my application blurb. Here it is:

Near a black-water swamp sits a forlorn prince with bulging eyes, webbed feet, and a wickedly fast tongue. He contemplates with grim delight the delectable crunchiness of a blue-bottle fly. Meanwhile, across a moat and up three stories in the corner tower of a castle, a princess, with hair so long she must tie it around her waist, contemplates a blue bottle of her own. It is filled with a scent imported from the best shop in Paris. She regretfully dumps the perfume out the window and stuffs in a meticulous, closely written note. “To whom it may concern…I am a lovely princess trapped in a tower…need rescue… — … et cetera and ad nauseum…Yours forever, Grezundl.” She tosses the note-in-a-bottle from the window. The frog, without thinking, flashes out his tongue at what he mistakenly believes is a blue-bottle fly. So the adventure begins.

Written with keen psychological insight, intense characterization, light humor, and some really big words, “Grezundl and the Frog Prince” is an adroit blending of two familiar fairy tales. The story reeks of alliteration, smells to high heaven of metaphor, yet exudes a mere whiff of moral. Grezundl is short, sweet, and entertaining (the book, not the princess). A great read for all ages.

Well, if that doesn’t make you want to rush out and purchase a copy, nothing will.