Feeding Them Phonusbalonus
That’s jake, said the dewdropper to the bluenose who snorted.
Mind your potatoes, said the wurp. He had had too much footjuice.
The bluenose held a gasper out to the dewdropper. Here.
Nozzled, the wurp stumbled behind the shed, heading toward the hole.
He’s gone to iron his shoelaces, said the bluenose in a haughty way.
Go chase yourself, said the dewdropper. Bring us back a couple of sinkers.
The upstage bluenose looked at him carefully. You’ll be here when I return?
Sure, said the dewdropper. I swear it on my manicle.
You guys want noodle juice too?
That would be nerts, the dewdropper said.
Oliver Twist came up to beg a sinker.
Sure, said the bluenose, feeling superior. You’ll be here when I get back?
Go chase yourself! Urged the dewdropper.
He gave him an icymit, so the bluenose turned toward the diner.
That was the berries, said Oliver Twist, settling on an old car chassis straggle buggy.
The dewdropper told him to scat.
“That’s a rhatz!” the kid yelled, and he ran off.
What kind of phonusbalonus were you feeding to the kid?
It was the wurp, back from his potty break.
That blue nose is bringing the law, dewdropper lied. Let’s book.
Tell it to Sweeny, said the wurp. I’m settled.
Let’s blouse before that bluenose gets back, dewdropper said to wurp.
Bank closed? Sure. Why not. They headed for the motel to appeal to the owner.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
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