Casa Tiger

 

Every movie can be improved by adding a hungry tiger into it--

a bullet-proof tiger who can talk, but

only speaks in aphorisms and maxims.

The tiger's voice should sound like broad green leaves 

and love language.

High Noon with Gary Cooper, bad guys, and a bullet-proof tiger.

Citizen Kane with a talking tiger on a sled.

Casablanca with a tiger behind the bar, saying,

"Love is like the stripes of a zebra; 

bright and dark touching but still apart and always moving."

Real life could be enhanced as well. 

The tiger could eat people who don't allow their dogs upstairs,

who cut in line, and who take duckface selfies.

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away!"

the tiger would say while standing over their bones,

full with both flesh and satisfaction.

You could come over.

We can watch movies--with tigers in them!--

spouting maxims and bromides,

wrestling feverishly with each other and with the notion

of tigers knowing anything about zebras or hearts

except that they are foolish things

made of meat

and consumable.

____

for Shay's Word Garden Word List--Incidents Around the House

On Set Mishap 1928

 

I, Guinivere Golde, aspiring megastar and idol of millions,

was performing in Pharaoh and the Flapper, when the wildcat

I held

on a leash

suddenly and deliberately

questioned my method and acting choices. 

Clawed to ribbons and near death

(but still achingly beautiful and scandalously erotic)

I was loaded into the world's slowest ambulance

which was 

driven by

the studio head who was wearing a chauffeur's cap

and already having me written out the role I had given it up to get.

Does that sound fair to you? Does it?

So there I was, riding in the back with the EMT

(played to great effect by Basil MacNaughton-Redfield)

and also the offending puma, who had donned a tux,

answering questions

as the EMT

did a background and got my vitals, for which I am usually

compensated well beyond scale, but this fool wanted freebies. 

Prefacing all of my responses with "survey says..." and 

fluttering my lashes as if I had some kind of coquettish palsy,

I saw lights, smelled oranges, and heard bells as we sped on.

"Hospital admin says,

every time a bell rings

an EMT gets into med school."

Thus spake my healing angel as the puma looked on impassively.

I hate it when my rescuer--and there always is one--goes off script.

Then I coded, dying like a regular Carmen in my juiciest role ever.

A girl anticipates things like this, living in a rented shoebox,

living on saltines and gin, and sleeping in a murphy bed,

but now,

O Happy Day!

it was my death scene!

My name made all the trades and my wedding to the EMT was

covered coast to coast and broadcast breathlessly on radio.

The three of us (with the puma) then staged a gala funeral on the beach!

So you see, I'm a star. 

Oh honey, you're not getting me into those ratty wings.

Who designed them, that ark guy?

Where's the phone, I need to call my agent.

(No reporters? Some tw0-bit burg this is.)

How long will I have to stay here?

I'd kill for a smoke and a publicist right about now.

Criminy. 

So this is Heaven huh?

What a dump!

______

for Word Garden Word List--13 Reasons Why. 

Music: The Hebbe Sisters It Don't Mean a Thing

Safe House

 

Welcome to the safe house.

No one will find you here.

The ambulance is like a big rolling cotton ball, isn't it?

The siren has been modified to sound like a waterfall.

Please do not share this location with spouses or children--yours or not.   

Their tread on the white front steps would jar the keyboard of your recovery.

Meet helpers Jenny and George in their clean gray smocks. 

Yes, it's hard to tell which is which!

Many guests forget them even as they stand there smiling. 

In the parlor we have an electric fireplace

and framed Kincades on the eggshell walls.

We ask that you leave your red hats and rainbows with Susie at the door.

A few teensy tiny rules:

no weapons

no newspapers

no Facebook

no over-exertion

no stimulants

no sex

no drama

no poetry.

In a week or two, the nightmares should stop,

along with any disquieting longings or regrets. 

Non-attachment is our way.

You may even levitate, like a balloon.

If you get confused, just follow the white tape on the beige tile.

It can be difficult--even for staff! --to tell the bedrooms from the morgue.

_________

for What's Going On? "Safe". 

Music: the Pretenders Every Day Is Like Sunday

The Word Garden Word List is still HERE through Sunday! 

 

The Legend of Large Larry Lilliput

 The Hollywood heavy left the bughouse

to become a public gangster,

then dynamited the studio

out of some imagined rancor.

"I am the King of the Eskimos!"
he declared with eyes gone glassy

and wore in his hair a plastic rose

convinced it looked quite classy.

His career was a catastrophe

playing ghouls and goons

but they say he gained some mastery

in the place where they count the spoons.

After a time, he married a mime

who made crickets seem loquacious.

They had nine kids--one sublime

and the other eight pugnacious.

He coughed and keeled and passed away

in the middle of his biggest caper.

You can't even visit his grave today--

he vanished into vapor!

______

posted with profuse apologies to Alicia Suskin Ostriker, the subject of this week's Word Garden Word List. 

The image is of Lon Chaney Sr. 

Music: Betty Booom & Ashley Slater Spooky Scary Skeletons

The Aztecs Have Abandoned Downtown

The Aztecs have abandoned downtown.

They used to row their canoes down the San Antonio river,

and sacrifice hearts to Huitzilipochtli down by the Cenotaph,

a stone's throw from the Alamo.

The police ran them off.

A few of them sold tee shirts and key chains in little shops in latter years, though,

and now they live in McMansions with sprawling lawns and gates,

though they're discouraged from displaying their enemies' heads on the points of their wrought-iron fences.

Things change. It's sad.

Now the Aztecs keep their feathers and paint in attics or long-term storage units,

too sentimental to throw them away.

They wear L.L. Bean and J. Jill. 

I'll open a crummy theater for third-run movies and call it the Aztec.

It'll be Pachuco heaven where truants can make out.

I'll know the cops by name and offer them coffee

while actresses younger than my kids tear out their hearts on screen for cokey actors in dumb costumes.

I will stay open as long as I can. Ars gratia artis.

________

for Sunday Muse #108, where I am hosting this week. I can't figure out the new dashboard to make this a link. Things always change. Pffft.

"Ars gratia artis", the slogan MGM used to use with the roaring lion, means "art for art's sake."

Air Strip

They are building an air strip in my back yard. 

An older guy who used to do bit parts in the movies showed up while I was reading a pulp novel in my Adirondack chair.

He said he needed a place to land his plane so could he build an air strip on the back part of the double lot?

Sure. Why the hell not?

He pays me six dollars a day in rent, cash money.
My dogs watch the work unfold,
or play with the guy's Boxer.
There is just him, his wife, his adult son, the Boxer (whose name is"Buddy"),  and an old truck.

Work progresses slowly. 
I collect my six bucks at 5 o'clock.

One afternoon about a week in, the guy stops by my chair, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief.
"I'm up in the air in my prop job, and I'm almost out of fuel," he tells me.
"But...you're here," I point out as gently as I can.
"Yes," he agrees, "I'm here, but I'm also up in the air in my prop job and really need a place to land."

The dogs play.
His wife and son lean on their shovels.
Inside, I have a refrigerator, a table and chairs, a tv.
I think I've seen the guy in something.

Right now, though, he's up in the air in his prop job,
looking down at himself building an air strip in my back yard.
"Good luck," I say, the way one does.
He nods, sweating and looking beat, then goes back to building his air strip.

I watch the dogs chase each other and try to think what can I buy with six bucks?
_________

for day 9 of my 39 poems in 39 days.

Eating Movies

Here is a movie you can watch or eat.
Oh honey, go ahead, kiss that leading man, OR
take a big bite right out of his too-big head.

Oh shit he's dead oh shit he's dead
Ha! It's interactive, hit START and he's back.

A lady never throws up in the bushes.
Didn't they teach you anything at film school?

Okay, now watch this part: turn on the commentary.
You get to hear voices over the regular sound!
Mine are telling me to eat the movie.

I'm flickering inside, it's so retro.
You have subtitles. Strike a pose, girl, be Eurotrash!
Let's watch our previews. Turn inward; it's very Eastern.

Hit START again. Now try the options.
Let's eat this actress, she's sick of always being that guy's girlfriend.
Just go with it! Try not to over-analyze. Don't be lame and cry at the end.
_______

for Susie's challenge