Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.
Showing posts with label without benefit of sanity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label without benefit of sanity. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Shark Adventure

 

Some sharks move to suburbia.

They are mutant land sharks, able to breath and speak in their
strange, halting pidgin. 

Their spawn, er, kids sign up for Little League
and eat burgers at picnic tables after the games--
A lot of burgers.
Okay all the burgers.

At little Maria's birthday party, there is a pinata. 
One of the shark kids bursts up from the lawn,
opens its gaping maw,
and consumes it whole, along with much of a maple tree. 
Version 1) Maria runs inside, crying.
Version 2) Maria starts writing "Mrs, Maria Shark" over and over
in her school notebook.

Some customs elude the sharks.
Someone brings over a bundt cake as a welcome gesture.
Mrs. Shark tries for an air kiss on the cheek but sends the woman to the hospital. 
It is awkward for everyone and permanent for the neighbor.

The sharks notice that PTA mothers' and golfing dads' smiles
have turned to scowls. 
Country Club sponsorships dry up. 
The sharks make a holiday visit to the community pool and everyone runs away screaming. 

The sharks start wearing disguises in the grocery store and at the bank.
"I am a harmless minnow," says one shark
from a few rows of dagger-like teeth.
During a visit to a local gallery, all the sharks wear berets
and funny eyeglass masks.
No one is fooled.

Realizing that things have gone too far for remedy,
the sharks shrug, as sharks will, 
and solve everything by eating the school principal, 
the HOA president, and the local chief of police, 
all in a single afternoon.

They pack up all their stuff and return to the sea
where people are not so judgy and unforgiving.
They playfully sink a fishing boat and eat all the occupants, fish, tackle, and the mast. 
They are home. Their stomachs are full. All is well.
Brody and Hooper may kiss their fantastic finned butts.
________

for Word Garden Word List--Shakespeare Bats Cleanup 

Music: Baby Shark (You're welcome!)




Thursday, August 11, 2022

Gatwick

 

Gatwick's in league with the devil
'flight delayed", she'll see you grovel.
Things left in small rooms upstairs
she lets reanimate there
to suck your soul, sour your nerves
turn your heart as cold as hers.
Gatwick's in league with the devil
"flight delayed", she'll see you grovel.

_________


artwork by Jacqueline Deleon

music: Nick Drake "Three Hours"





Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Tranquility Base

Here is the place. 
The perfect place
for us to abandon ourselves completely.
At last, we can do anything, 
and blame a lunacy so compelling
that no one will tell us, lemon-faced, that we should have known better.

If I could see your eyes,
if your thick visor did not simply reflect my face back at me,
I would know that you agree.
If I bash my lips at your hidden ones in what must seem a frenzy of desire,
my only wish is simply to obliterate my returned image;
meteors have pocked this place similarly,
and perish spectacularly.

Darling, unscrew your cumbersome white gloves.
How foolish they seem in a world made entirely of dust!
Were you expecting more, somehow, my pet?
Did the distant sun or the blue earth render you wistful,
yearning for hotter or cooler worlds
peopled by beautiful deities and not just me, 
fumbling like a spastic?

Let's resolve to surrender to what is, my lamb,
no matter how featureless and grim that may be.
We can undress each other and gasp for breath,
agreeing to pretend that it is because of excitement over each other
and that our bursting lungs and 
exploding hearts
are due to love and not just tiresome symptoms of violent expiry.

In the end it will be all right.
If we squint, the gravity and gravitas that encumbers others
will release us as if we were as blameless as a baby's soap bubbles.
We will rise,
renewed,
seeming to wave to non-existent crowds of our lessers,
departing for our next empty rendezvous,
lighter than forgiven murderers unstrapped from the table, finding grace.
_______

for Izy's Out of Standard challenge

 

Sunday, November 4, 2012

The Finger Knife

It's the fever place
and the fracture fall,
with a strip of lace wrapped around it all.

A dusk-gone door
and a small cool hand,
with the worst of it in a silk-knot band.

Coo coo
sings the cage bird
melancholy-sweet,
coo in the morning while the whole house sleeps;

Coo coo
sings the soft throat
coo brings the cat,
the silent little calico the sugar man keeps.

It's the bent porch rail
and the dahlia bloom,
with a candle and a snuffer set in every room.

It's the sugar man's house
with his child-bride wife,
claiming each one edge of the finger knife.
_____

image by SueAnn, in connection with dverse poetics.