Who's the Boss?

Or: "Oh We Will Have Such Fun."

"When I Am No Longer Your Boss." Pen on ruled paper
By Karen Kay Remus (c) 2018

One of my readers said that he didn't "get" the "comic" above.  That's because there's nothing to "get." It's just a weird drawing with a  non-sequitur caption. 

However, considering the improbable positioning of the street lights together with the caption might lead one to mildly amusing thoughts.    For example, if one light is addressing the other, which one is "speaking?"  

I've asked  some people, and they are divided.  Some think that the one on the right is the boss, because it's "looking" over the other one's shoulder, "observing" its work. Others say the one on the left is the boss, because it's "leading" the way.

Either scenario is absurd, because the lights are bolted to the ground.  How would one "boss" the other, and how would they "have fun" once their business relationship was dissolved?  Would they flash on and off?

If there truly are an infinite number of universes, then this is just one possible scene from one of the placidly bizarre ones.

The Seer's Confession

A New Poem by Karen Kay Remus (c) 2017

The Seer’s Confession
By Karen Remus, ©2017

I’m seeing a seer
The seer sees a see-saw by the sea side
He also sees sea shells but
Says these are secondary in symbolic significance
To the see-saw he sees

“Superfluous sea debris!” he snorts
“See-Saws by the sea side symbolize…”
[He suddenly sneezes]
“Excuse me.  I sneeze in sea breeze,” he says
“Gesundheit.” I say

“Donkey Shoe,” he says
“So where were we?
Ah yes:  sea side see-saws
Symbolize sideways synchronicities”

“What synchronicities are these?” I say
“Those between sea horses and saw horses” he says
“I see,” I say
“I see you seize the sea scene,” He smiles

“Shore do!” I say, “I also seize the day.”
He snickers and sneezes times three
“Sneezies in threesies defeat the diseases!” Says he
“…And release three times the nasal debrisies.” I say

He says, “I think you are onto something”
I say, “I think you are on something”
He says, “You really are something”
I say, “Geeze! I’m gonna call the cheese police”

He says, “Stop.  There is no need.
I confess:  I’m a cheesy seer
And a threesie sneezer, and moreover,
Son of Susie, who sold sea shells by the sea shore.”