Oh okay, you’re colorful
And I like that thing you’re doing with your wings
Mmmm yeah, fluff those feathers
Do that hopping thing again
I liked that
Hold up, wait, what’s this?
This fella over here brought me a bottle cap?
You are OUT, hoppy boi
There is a new alpha-male in my life
Hey BottleCap boi,
How loud can you squawk?
Hmm not bad, not bad
I’ve heard louder
So do you have other gifts for me, or…
Just the bottle cap?
Just the bottle cap, then.
Well...I think...maybe….
You take your worthless bottle cap
And get the HELL out of my tree!
You know what, I’m keeping the bottle cap!
If you can’t handle me when I’m territorially aggressive
Then you don’t deserve me when I’m nesting, am I right?
It’s fine, really
I’ve got plenty more breeding seasons
And I’ve practically got a flock of idiots
Who bring me worms on the daily,
As if that would ever convince me to mate with them.
Ugh, Male specimens are such trash.
3/6/2021
Biting Satire Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
bottlecap, love, men, perspective, power,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
Northern winters harbor harshness.
Freezing confetti and sun lit bottlecap.
Snow angels can never warm the backs
of cinderblock children and gray eyed cats.
Northern winters push the hobbled hobos...toward the equator.
To nibble the candied ribbons of warmth.
Sashay the deer and goldfinch trails.
To pretend they're a white shoed, flower breasted tourist for an afternoon.
Mind flirting with women in thin- pastel skirts.
Comb beaching for shiny dreams...
Making sand dollars.
Even poverty can't deny them this.
Categories:
bottlecap, hope, people,
Form: Free verse
They float on feather hubcaps
Gypsy dance in the elegance of the sun
They grow antlers in venus spectrum
Holding backyard festivals, with pagan costumes
She is free
She can't see me
I am becoming
Always lost and returned again
We swirl around the fog of beach
The pallour in her eyes casts a glint
She's talking about memories gone
I'm mystified as the giant web unfurls
Hidden love, gone and deep
What remains of the lost city
Buried underneath our feet
Beauty of how things were
Categories:
bottlecap, allegory, lost, lost,
Form: Free verse
Slamming the night like 90 proof drinks,
stilettos click along broken star streets.
Spinning like wolverines in a badass heat
swallow the strobe lights-puke up the beat.
Time cracks when black knights blitz
when cherries are on fire,
and nobody gives two chits
when suave turns into busted dream liars.
Midnight blindsiding angels-everyone is a kite.
Nylons are smoking - running a little bit higher.
Concrete shacks turned to pulsing pink ritz.
With pink potholes and slippery pricks.
Night winding down, henchmen move in.
Last call of their lives is etched on the wind.
Glitter backsliding into graffiti and grit.
All the good vibes slammed into bed.
red bleeding to blue bleeding to half past dead.
Ninety proof knights
chest to chest
spraying hate like 38 calibers led.
Youth floating down in bottlecap alley ...quite dead.
Categories:
bottlecap, urban,
Form: Rhyme
Down and down and down they fall,
into rivers and oceans and seas,
into eyes looking up,
and onto uncaring heads,
making streams gurgle again,
overflowing suburban birdbaths,
filling a little bottlecap on the side of the road,
making a puddle in a tiny dip,
muddying the roads where tires run through,
down and down and down they fall,
my tears water the earth,
and without them there would be nothing.
Categories:
bottlecap, devotion, life, nature,
Form: Free verse