How many times have we met? I don't have thick skin
if I were to come under the needle of a vet;
barf would linger on clothes that aren't yet washed
down by the hose of a zoo attendant.
The span of your ears sweeping back the stench
I exude with perspiration, thanks, elephant.
My rumbly gut on your gut, your rotund barrel
takes us over Niagara Falls.
A cold, yet steamy mist can exit rage.
A friendliness plummets over me where I stand
too drunk to squirm and go visit my girl.
I turn and want to unlatch my cage, bar
pressing my nose to what might be in store
not ready to eat hay nor sleep on the floor,
grateful that your prehensile
trunk can reach in the fridge and snag a beer.
Blue Cheese and Old Pickles Poetry Contest
Craig Cornish
A dish of disappointment
mocks the kitchen chef
two anomalies sitting on his cutting board
all in their glory, dumbfounded
... and unappetizing
plated for aliens and not humans
or for a horse that doesn’t know better
this recipe’s giving him the blues and he’s seeing red
where …
his yellow brick road has two strangers today
two lost food groups
arriving earlier in hearses
a funeral procession
mythically carrying the deceased to his kitchen foyer
… some blue cheese and an old dill
that are down for an undressing
of his bitter words
like, fudge, where’s the beef
… or better yet Mars is up there
as a cloud of despair hovers over the kitchen
not a spaceship as one might think
darkness begetting light
salt, pepper and garnishes spooked
… a ready barf bag crashes this meal
Don’t knead, bleed, and feed.
Don’t sneeze in the breeze.
Don’t ooze in the booze.
Don’t go with the flow.
Don’t scoff at a cough.
Don’t sleep and weep.
Don’t hug with a bug.
Don’t sob with a slob.
Don’t sneer at a tear.
Don’t drool in a pool.
Don’t barf on a scarf.
Don’t fly and cry.
Goodbye.
Don’t sneeze disease.
Don’t wed dead.
Don’t lip drip.
SOME NECK
There was a big and small giraffe
They were always up for a laugh
Following spurious dietary wishes
Ate up all the zookeeper’s dishes
So much food, it made them barf
Helen had a teddy bear’s hat of blue
She had a teddy bear’s scarf
I bet her underwear is full of bears too
Said an uncouth guy name of Barf
I have regular white panties today
She said primly in a not very nice way
Irritated that is what he did say
Barf and she never got along at all after that day
server
pierced eyebrow
barf
There once was a cowboy from Nevada.
He wore a barf bag as a bandana.
When he rode on his horse,
his sickness grew worse,
and his intestines flared with melena.
There's an eatery here in my hometown I'd heard about,
That features exotic wild animal fare so I thought I'd check it out!
I perused the menu and here are a few examples of its bizarre cuisine:
Slow-broiled and marinated Indian elephant spleen;
Delectable bar-be-qued Texas style rib of rattlesnake;
Tender sixteen-ounce portions of grilled hippopotamus steak;
Choice butterflied pork tender-loin from corn-fed por(k)cupine;
Wild Arkansas boars' feet boiled and pickled in spicy brine;
Fresh flown-in daily from Alaska, deep-fried buzzards' gizzards;
Finely sliced sauteed tongue of Komodo Dragon lizards!
I decided to order an enticing delicacy that really caught my eye;
'Twas a dish called Braised Himalayan Rabbit that I thought I'd try!
I asked the server about its origin and its preparation mode.
"First" said she, "we find him-a-layin' on the road!"
(At that I stifled a roiling barf and from there I quickly strode!)
Byron didn't wait for me.
Across the hall Becky tried not to look.
Chalk was everywhere.
Knuckles was already suspended.
Trailing the varsity jackets I
Oscillated between chic and irreverent.
Someone yelled, "barf!"
Charades and hustlers cover every inch.
How am I going to find my locker?
Oswald points me to "304."
Oblong and wrong I walk there.
Looking forward, looking backward.
Think I need a boyfriend...
Ain’t to old for that
A husband would be stressful
At the age I’m at.
A boyfriend would be adequate
For my wants and needs
I do not want a toy boy
Though a boyfriend for my feeds…
Yes I need a boyfriend-chef!
Think I need a boyfriend...
One that sparkles my eye
Wonder if I’ll meet him
Before I fall and die
From waiting all these years for him
Ha! Like he is my master
My time is running out
I need a boyfriend faster…
Yes I need a fast boyfriend who is a chef !!
Think I need a boyfriend...
This thought again emerges
And it’s difficult to focus
With these boyfriend urges
A boyfriend who will calm me
And soothe my worried mind
A boyfriend that knows his place
And walks a step behind
Yes I need a boyfriend who is smart, fast and who is a chef!!!
Think I need a boyfriend...
To have a little laugh
One that is so handsome
So I shall not barf
Though if I got stuck with he
The one who hurts my eyes
He must know how to clean
And apologise.
Yes I need a sorry, handsome, cleaning, smart, fast boyfriend who is a chef!!!!
Why are parents so mean,
when I won't eat anything green?
No broccoli, brussels sprouts, green beans, or green grapes,
these will always stay on my plate.
So, here I sit watching the green things wrinkle,
while I cross my legs holding my tinkle.
I got to get up, stuff them in my mouth, and
while in the bathroom, barf them all out.
Parents can be so mean,
if you don't eat anything green.
My apple contained half a worm
This really made my tummy churn
I’d devoured one half
It sure made me barf
In future an apple I’ll spurn
FICTIONAL WRITE
03/09/21
Man, it’s been four long dog years!
Forlorn doggone tears
of toil
and trouble
It’s a flee collar fact,
this feels like forty years
of Sirius jaw smack:
Loss leader of the pack
has got a Cujo shifty,
barf shuffle
Spit pissing
constant doggie poo
puff bubbles
It’s bad to the bone,
contentious err
Listening to those vulgar [s]wag tales,
has pup aged
my schnauzer soul ten-fold
That’s howl long it’s been,
four dog-eared years!
All of them dog whistle tweets,
mutter sounds belch indiscreet
Vomit noise spilt in the streets,
by deputy dawgs on gag delete:
A Pluto soundbyte loop repeat
Those pilfer pooches
was gon be
the Scooby-Doo death of me
But I didn’t wanna wait-see
Woe, man! It’s been four long dog years,
of carny bark
not subtle
Every wrinkled nose ballot spoke,
grey stubble
Too many me
were simply dog tired
Of seeing Lady Tramp Liberty
lip muffled
Her trashed democracy hope
getting Lassie tear-tossed
in the rubble
I truly dream-fear
those rabid dog years
(four centuries of snarl jeers)
will runt-of-the-litter reappear
11-30-20
Tomatoes with salt
It is how he was raised
Tomatoes with sugar
It is how I was raised
Mushrooms and oysters yum yum he says
Mushrooms and oysters. Barf barf say I.
Thick crust pizza for him, thin crust for me.
It is a wonder our children can eat at all.
One loves The Red Lobster. Her sister will not eat fish.
Two love Chinese food, the other one despises it.
None of them like tomatoes at all.
Eating out is our best option.
I love a radish in the springtime!
I love a radish in the fall!
I take my car and park it,
There at the farmer's market,
And buy out every radish stall!
If there’s kohlrabi, I’ll buy a few
A tasty turnip I will not eschew,
But I love a radish when the sun’s up,
And even more when it begins to set,
But at the stroke of midnight
There’s nothing else I will bite
Cept’ for all the radish I can get.
And as for parsnips, they make me larf;
And salsify? My gosh I just might barf!
But I love a radish on my waffles,
As filling in my chocolate radish cake,
Tho’ once, while in Calcutta,
I wolfed down radish butta,
and I never will forget the belly-ache!
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