Something New

Yepper-doddle, today I’ll use my own noddle. My prized antique frame sustained a despised bust. Wanting to show my man the tough dough in my crust, I found strong glue and told that goo I was nonplussed. Next, I grabbed frame, soda and sat on my sofa. Three tries – no prize, so with both eyes quite wide, I called the glue a boob lube, dumb as a square loop, and threatened to incise its worthless insides. I rose, fetched pose and a calming balm libation, then returned to pestering with less sweltering. Glue applied, both sides, I made my hands a vice and, well fries n’ flies, I squeezed degrees of might. Bullet sweat, my muscles clinched like a barrette, I pressed longer than tourists eating pullets. Then when gingerly, tenderly letting go – glue thoroughly, tauntingly offended me - son of a bee, ugly as his glue-mom-harlot, refused to seam my antique frame back to its gleam. Past bummed, I stood to sweetly summon my husband, but my feet stuck to carpet, mucked as a tar pit. CayCay Jennings October 16, 2018