Friday, August 1, 2014

Dainty Maid

I'm a delightful, dainty maid
with a girlish giggle and a live grenade--

I felt silly,
so I blew up Billy.
An evil devil murderess,
that's what the judge says.

But let me run and gain plurality,
then my prank is policy.

What a dainty little duality.
Would you like to play with me?

for Marian's music prompt at Real Toads

Wednesday, July 30, 2014


NASA does not, unfortunately, seem to make anything to wear
that could be termed slinky;
no little black dress.
This is what you get when you leave men in charge--
we look like kitchen workers,
or R2-D2.
Still, I am determined to win you back.

There are certain advantages to my chosen profession;
look into my visor and see yourself and everything around you expanded.
This is how I see you all the time--
bigger than you really are,
and as curved as the horizon.

Sit down, baby.
Talk to me. 
My knees buckle like poorly tested rivets
whenever I hear the pop of static that precedes your words of love.
Look at me.
Really look at me,
here trying to please you.
The peas on my plate lift right up,
they float around the room,
and I spin slowly above my chair like some stuporous Ferris wheel.

Give it one more try.
Recalibrate us, unscrub the mission,
get us on all the fucking networks; make it 1969 again.
I'm not an anomaly, sweetheart.
I'm girl with the right stuff,
the happy ocean you can splash down in;
the Ultimate Instrument for finding your way
from a decaying orbit smack onto the landing pad of honey-I'm-home.

With tongue only *slightly* in cheek for Kerry Says Can You Hear Me at Real Toads.

Monday, July 28, 2014

The Fiddler's Cat

The fiddler's cat
keeps one claw in a treble clef--
keeps one eye on the mouse that's left--
the fiddler's cat--
white but not deaf.

The fiddler's cat
caught the note she drew from you--
knows polished maple from driftwood, too--
the fiddler's cat--
can scratch and scratch she do.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Book Review: "Thirteen Reasons Why"

Thirteen Reasons WhyThirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

When I purchased Julie Anne Peters's new YA novel "Lies My Girlfriend Told Me" from Amazon, they recommended this book, and it sounded good, so I got it. All I can say is WOW. It blew me away.

If you've ever felt alone, discouraged, or overwhelmed, read this book.

If you've ever loved someone but felt you didn't have a chance, read this book.

If you are a parent, read this book. If you can't talk to your parents, read this book.

If you've ever wondered how a young person could not want to live, read this book. If you've ever felt that way yourself, read this book. If you need a reason to hope, read this book.

If you've ever had a "safe place", read this book. If someone has ever taken that place away, read this book.

If you don't think little things matter, read this book.

If you want to read something you'll never forget, read this book.

Read this book, read this book, read this book. Read it!

I would give it ten stars if I could.

View all my reviews

Friday, July 25, 2014

The Neighborhood Babe

Wise man say:
Quit with the pidgin already.
If you can't put together a simple declarative sentence in the English language,
the best I can offer you is a gig with the railroad.

The Neighborhood Babe leaves her rugrats at home for the evening,
and attends a night class.
Pretty soon she can dance like Ginger Rogers
and do her own taxes,
but she needs more, you dig?

Up, up the mountain she goes, that chalk-fingered Babe,
to the tippy top.
Survey says:
Location, location, location,
but there he is anyway,
the Shell Answer Man,
chewing on a Krispy Kreme.

I want to be a poet, she tells him.
He says:
Jot down a bunch of gibberish.
Everybody'll love it and toss roses at your feet,
and even if they don't,
just call your sloppy nonsense poetic license and smile indulgently.
Then come back here and fill in for me;
I need to see a man about a dog.

So the Neighborhood Babe finally arrives back home,
spouting zen koans
and making the rugrats dig a koi pond in the back yard.
At night she dreams of China--
the Great Wall turns into an undulating snake,
and she rides it, waving her hat like a cowgirl and shouting hoo-wee!
Fortune cookie say:
Though shrouded in mists, lofty heights await.
Sometimes she actually knocks her pillow onto the floor.

for Hannahballistic's Transforming Friday challenge!



Thursday, July 24, 2014

Real Doll

I was a real doll,
dressed to the nines,
and cuter than ten puppies in an Easter basket.

I had button eyes.
My doctor shone a penlight at them and declared,
"flat affect" and started me on a prescription.

Pretty soon, my stitched-on grin
was making me popular!
Invites everywhere, filling up my screen.
Oh hell yes!
I'm telling you, girl,
I was so surprised I could have shit and fallen back in it.

Me and my doll friends wore striped stockings
and cute dresses we changed twenty times a day.
And boyfriends?
Mine came and went like the weather--
I kept pushing their hands away from my hem,
spouting some crap about saving myself for marriage,
but I was worried what they'd do 
when they only found smooth plastic.

That's when things started to go tilt, a little bit.
Like at the beauty college,
where the Barbie with a ring in her nose took way too much off.
"It'll grow back!" chirped the cashier,
but, hello, it's yarn, it won't.

And, no matter how much Aveeno I slather on,
I'm about as soft as a baseball bat.
I turned to booze, but unlike some, I can't pee.
I tried smoking dope, but my mouth doesn't open.
I even tried hard dope, but the needles always break.

You know what? I never went back to that doc.
Now I spend my days splayed on some little girl's bookshelf,
next to a Beanie giraffe.
Sometimes she takes me down and dangles me by my heels, 
squeaking, "Oh noooo! I'm falling out of the ski lift! 
Save meeeeeeee!"
Don't laugh, Toots, it's a plumb part.

I'm a real doll,
dressed to the nines,
and cuter than kittens in a cereal bowl.


Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Paleontology For Couples

450 million years ago,
at Angelo's,
before they remodeled,
I told you something.

I had been saving it,
relishing the moment when I would unveil it,
reveal it,
astonish you with the joy of it.

You never heard a word I said.
So, for 450 million years, I never spoke again--
here, but not here,
turned to stone instead.

59 words for Mama Zen at Real Toads.