Poems & Stories
Dada is fun! And it’s alive and well and living in my brain. This is more of a play on words than it is anything meaningful. It’s meant to be playful and a bit funny. With a pinch of realism.
MID-CENTURY MODERN
Baking goods at Mister's shop
Convection currents escape the box
A pelting of hot candy rocks, remote controls
Butter rolls
Cascading over the entire coast
and across the waistline
Streaming waves In real time
With lives and wives lost at sea.
The cook climbed the hill at St. Gaff.
Against the grain
What a laugh!
Watched the candy rocks boilin
the butter rolls rollin
Remote controls controllin
Not even met by an apostrophe
No comma or semicolon
Not even a dash
New paragraph!
It left a swath of total destruction
In the midst of her berry wine reduction
They couldn’t find us anymore
Not at the door or ship to shore
The rolling waves crashed down the stairs
Mixing with the candied pears.
Bubbling marmalade everywhere
In Mason jars and on the floor.
And there she goes, changing the channel
In her best tartan plaid flannel
Intersecting time and space.
Applying Halsey’s About Face!
Cropped her hair like an endangered species
To look like the girl on her old fashioned TV.
Filled in her brow; plumped up her lips
Took some weight off her hips.
Her entourage came from her head
She stores them in the backyard shed.
Took up Karate and Jujitsu.
Have you seen it yet? It’s true!
It really shows in her carbolic mood.
She killed all the suitors in one swoop.
Another blow! A fall from grace!
Another injection in her face.
Let’s celebrate her fantasy
Garner words for a soliloquy.
Then toss them all into the bin.
Ship off the corpses in a biscuit tin.
All those things that need to be said
Tasty like warm Christmas bread
Take off your pants; unbutton your blouse
Hand the remote back to your spouse
Crawl into your side of the bed
Take action, stat! Or so it’s said.
Turn it on! Transmit! Conclude! Play dead!