POCHEMUCHKA

I have lots of questions
as the nukes come flying in.

Did you borrow my sweater? The neck is fucked up.
How long are you going to hog the computer?
Are you even listening to me?

I wonder if our shadows will be burned into the concrete?
There goes my to-do list.
Whoa! What was
______

a flash 55 for Kerry.

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 simply policy.

What a dainty little duality.
Would you like to play with me?
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for Marian's music prompt at Real Toads

Old Fashioned Notions

I am given to old-fashioned notions--
you might find my calling card
and have to fuck with it while juggling groceries and your keys,
your life a tough clog, the door a riddling Sphinx.

You might think me too quaint to take seriously, 
wrapped in my shawl, a book under my arm.
You're in, setting shit down, taking a breath, but there's the bell--
who, now? Just me, peddling anarchy,

slipping the dynamite stick into your mail slot;
whispering baby talk to the bomb I made and set on a doily
at your doorstep, a shy and retro demonstration
of my love for you, and my devotion to things fashioned by firelight

and brought back, bursting, from a sweeter past.
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