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All she wanted was 

pretty horses with feather plumes,

standing balanced on their backs

as they circle the moon.

All she wanted was

Christmas morning and fruit on a plate,

candied stollen sliced and served,

rising early to start sleeping late. 

Now, visit her where

cornball Napoleons roam the rooms

spouting blather in poetry's place

while staff cup the pills and count the spoons.

______

for Word Garden Word List--Ferlighetti. 

A Conversation

 

I've read what you wrote.

And? Brilliant, yes?

Brilliant in its own way. If cheap sentiment were white sand, you'd be a resort beach.

Harsh.

So I've taken away your shoes to teach you a lesson.

Bitch.

Hey now. 

Why are you here, anyway?

Community service. I missed choir practice again. 

Your lap is comfy!

Get off me, pervert.

Don't have kittens. What's the matter, you don't like bathos?

Why don't you try writing something decent?

When pigs fly.

Oink! (flap flap flap)

Uh...kay, bye Felicia. Weird chick.

(from afar) Write something decent, Steve. 

________

for the Sunday Muse #190. 

Re: Staircase

 

STOP ALL WORK IMMEDIATELY PLEASE READ AND COMPLY

• City building permit not obtained/posted. 
• only union certified workmen may be hired for your project.
• project (decorative stairs) is not uniform. All risers must be level. Tripping hazards will be cited. 
• hand rails are required as per city safety regulations
• construction in unzoned areas must be approved by board
• all noxious plants, weeds, and unmown grasses must be removed. After six (6) months, the city will intervene and the cost added to your taxes
• proof of residence/authority to alter property must be presented. See Table B for necessary documents. 
• stairs to nowhere in a bunch of trees. really? 
• wtf is your problem?
• wtf is wrong with you?
• please correct these issues no later than ten (10) days after receipt of this notice. Failure to do so will result in fines, forfeiture of lands, and/or public hanging.
• Have a nice day!

CITY OF DUCKBURG DEPARTMENT OF DEEDS & RECORDS, COMPLIANCE DIVISION, DEPARTMENT OF REDUNDANCY DEPARTMENT.

-----------

for Sunday Muse #132.

Love Lock

I have kept you in jars of glass
blown from my own body.
I have kept you in photographs that swam 
and emerged from shallow night pools.

There is a blue cord connecting us,
an Arctic fissure calling with its constant lure.
I wake from dreams stunned, immobile,
a beat behind your false sunrise.

There is a bridge you don't believe in,
where I wait, lighting bonfires that burn the boards I stand on.
There is a lock and the looped chain future,
with only one key, in the palm of your hand.

As I turn to smoke, you turn to stone
where terns wheel and scream their Gypsy fortunes.
I become a bird as I fall, forgiving us both, 
in awkward semaphore I hope you'll understand.
______

for Sunday Muse # 95 where I am hosting.

A Message For Dumb-O-Crats

No need to fret about climate change.
You silly twit, you're just Trump-deranged.
"So what?" about fires, storms and floods,
"Thoughts and prayers" are more than enough.
If the water is rising right up the stairs,
relax, my friend, it's "alternative air."
We're sending cows--because we care!--
to the Arctic to be "alternative bears."
POTUS, most powerful man in the world,
takes no crap from a teenage girl.
So rest your mind, don't listen folks,
it's all a radical Democrat hoax.
________

Hoping you feel all better now, for Wordy Friday.

Origami Angel

A local origami angel, 
aged out of foster care,
kept a treble clef  in a wicker cage
perched on a wing and a prayer.

I kept dying and coming back 
all that winter, every time we kissed.
In spring the treble clef infected us with sense,
took back its hour and scorned such pious ornithologists.
_______

a 55 for my BFF.

Devolution In Akron

When I devolved,

it was late afternoon.

I lined old nickels along the window sill,

vending extinction and electrical deluge

from the absurd Akron sky. 

I'd had enough.

Rubber companies once existed here.

So did enormous bird-creatures

who spoke languages no automobile can mimic.

I leaned out,

watching the BP sign on the corner seize in the wind.

Behold the power of natural vocabulary. 

Akron is the birthplace of the soap box derby--

gravity-driven containers carrying children at high speed.

When I devolved, I grew a shell

and time propelled me backwards

past divorce, failures, rejections, geographic landmarks,

changes in bone structure, loss of logical reasoning and 

vestigial tail.

You cannot find me where I've gone.

What was your name?

Why did your skin matter to me?

Why us, and not someone else?

Why not birds,

insects,

volcanoes,

earthquakes,

fireballs,

oblivion?

When I devolved,

it was late afternoon.

By evening, huge, stupid and dying,

I discovered that it hadn't mattered at all--

I'd lost time, nickels, everything Akron could offer,

but retained the ability to cry.