Insects

Published May 27, 2018 in Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

Insects

There was a rumbling in the attic,

like something was running up there.

The insects are dying in droves.

It’s not an accident,

money and science

have produced a precise

kill of the fauna.

Congratulations,

chemical industry

you can kill all the insects.

They are responsible

for pollination.

Which is how we eat.

Hurry and finish the drones.

Superlatives

Published May 26, 2018 in Uncategorized - 0 Comments

Superlatives2

They shared custody of the dog.

Who had always been dangerous.

First day Jack brought him home,

from a prison like pound in Carson,

Gave him a bath and

afterwards, as they were drying him off,

he snapped

and bit Jack pretty severely.

Now, three years later

and a hundred crises smarter,

Tom Waits (that’s the name he had at the pound)

has to come home early

because he fucking bit Meta Jane.

“He’s in the dog house” she said.

“Why?” asked Jakck.

“He bit me.”

“Ah!” said Jack.

Here he was trying to win her back and…

Boom! The ex-convict blows it.

Ninja star to the solar plexus.

Mundane Rabbits

Published May 23, 2018 in Eve , Jack Sprat - 0 Comments

Mundane Rabbits

A pool of shoe fish

swimming around the closet floor.

No one is in control,

it’s absolute anarchy.

The Levy sneakers were a gift.

Jack wore them once

to his uncle’s retirement party.

Felt like he was cheating

on his Chuck Taylors.

He retired them after that.

Thirteen fleas,

he picked thirteen fleas

off of the insect.

Celine,

cute in the extreme,

lunging at the cats,

like they were missiles.

Root Beer

Published May 22, 2018 in Yvonne - 0 Comments

Root Beer

About midnight.

Street lights lit up everything

that the moon missed.

One thing the moon didn’t miss was Yvonne.

My sweetest one.

She cooks a mad file gumbo.

With the sassafras sass

that she got.

She’s divinely inspired.

No question, there is a God

when you see her.

“The ugly part is gone,

now I just have the fun part.”

Yvonne said, about nothing in particular.

Are You Sure?

Published May 17, 2018 in Ralph , Ruth - 0 Comments

Are You Sure 2Asked Ruth.
“As sure as eggs is eggs.”
Said Ralph.

“Edgar Cayce said
there is so much good in the worst of us
and so much bad in the best of us.”
“That what? We’re all serial killers?”
“Why would you say that?”
“It just sounds so ominous. Like an ominous riddle.”
“You could also say…
…there’s so much liverwurst in the best of us.”

“Ha!…now I’m hungry.”

“Eat.”

Ruth rolled her eyes.

“I get paid on Thursday. There’s still some bread, have it with butter.”

“No, you have it for breakfast.”

Clothes Horse

Published May 15, 2018 in Jack Sprat , Ruth - 0 Comments

CLothes Horse

“I think I’m depressed.” Jack said.

“We’re all depressed,” said Ruth, “Man up.”

“Which tie should I wear?”

“The one with the sperm design.”

“Ha ha. It’s Art Deco.”

“It’s not.”

“It is. It’s vintage, this tie was

actually worn in the nineteen forties.”

“It was not, silk doesn’t last that long.”

“It’s not silk. It’s Belgian polyester.”

“That’s not a real thing, you’re such a liar.”

“From Belgium, post war polyester.

They make outfits for sex dolls out of it now.”

“They do not. Art Deco?”

“Are you sure you don’t mean Art Dildo?”

Perfect Weather

Published May 5, 2018 in Max - 0 Comments

Perfect Weather

It was.

Not too hot during the day,

and still cool at night time.

Which is the right time,

for those of you keeping track.

Max found the note in a tupperware container

that the neighbor had left out for the feral cats.

Who wrote it?

It was crumpled like it had been thrown out.

It looked like her handwriting, he thought.

Then he realized how silly that was.

If that was her intention,

she wouldn’t leave it on a crumpled piece of newsprint.

Would she?

Hammer Anvil Tongs

Published April 26, 2018 in I Don't Even Know , Portraits - 0 Comments

Hammer Anvil Tongs

It’s a kaleidoscope hand, talented but flawed.

Belonging to he that was cast out

for being ugly.

Capable of making beautiful things,

in the fires of the forge.

Hated his parents for abandoning him.

On mother’s celebration day,

he gifted her a throne that he had made with this hand.

It was a trap that imprisoned her.

The price of her freedom?

Give him the most beautiful of goddesses as a bride.

He got his wish, but she would honor him.

Cheated on him with the handsome god of war.

Another indignity. Still, they were a family.

Four daughters in all:

One was a goddess of good reputation and glory.

Another a goddess of plenty and prosperous.

A third, a goddess of eloquence.

The youngest, a goddess of friendliness.

All beautiful like their mother.

He loved them, like any artist loves his children.

Turning the Tide

Published April 24, 2018 in Mikio - 0 Comments

Turning the Tide

Flowers from the garden.

Really, just making the most

of going to seed.

The arugula flowers don’t taste bad either.

The black sage flowers he cut

to make a rub.

And the roses…they’re roses, bred to be picked.

Nasty thorns this time out.

Like shark teeth.

Mikio ground the dried sage leaves with sea salt.

Added some dried rosemary which had a few blue flowers of its own.

Winner, winner chicken dinner.

Got a cat (two actually), got a room (for the cats)

and he’s now 20 pounds thinner (mostly from not eating).

Undo Your Safety Belt

Published April 19, 2018 in I Don't Even Know - 0 Comments

Undo Your Safety Belt

It won’t be a bumpy ride.

We got this.

“Get the commissioner on the phone.

Put him on with me when you have him.”

“Hello, Commissioner? Yeah, listen,

I was asked to give you a call, but not give you a call.

So that you would never be put in a predicament

where somebody said that you were called.”

“Who is this?”

“Doesn’t matter who it is. What matters is that

you were given a call, but not given a call.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Commissioner.”

Click.

He looked at his phone, incredulous.