Weekends are when one usually relaxes, but you're probably working on your taxes. Hey, that rhymes, which reminds me: It's National Poetry Month. Next weekend on the show, we're paying homage to Tax Day with poems and prose submitted by our listeners. Some of you have already written in with your lyrical odes to filing.
Michael Panhorst in Auburn, Ala., sent in this short poem:
Stock your I. R. A.
Venida Corda in Van Nuys, Calif., writes:
As April approaches I suddenly see the prospect of money leaving me.
I saved all my receipts for taxes and such,
But I can tell I don't have enough.
With medical, work, and charity giving,
I should have spent more.
So tax man I prey please get out of my way for Aprils the month I most want to avoid.
Good-by to my wealth, I wont see you again, but what can I say but wait till next year.
John Baglio sent in this haiku via Twitter:
Where's my tax refund?/The feeling of found money/Sweet self-deception.
Even our own social media mascot, Piggy got in on the act:
Could do this myself
But tax forms make me nervous
So I pay for pro.
Think you can do better than these poets? Send us your poem about taxes... after you finish filing, of course. Or leave a comment with your poem.
“I think the best compliment I can give is not to say how much your programs have taught me (a ton), but how much Marketplace has motivated me to go out and teach myself.” – Michael in Arlington, VABEFORE YOU GO