Increasing productivity.
From the bottom of bottomlessness.
Pointless old stuff.
You could buy a used car.
From all the coins.
If you melted down the coins.
Made a priceless statue.
Increasing productivity.
It’s soda cans worth less and less.
It’s an old dog collar when the dog died and no one cares.
It’s fish when you don’t have a fishing pole so you hop in the water and splash!
Filling up old cars with old engine oil, and even older rage.
Increasing.
Made a priceless statue.
The old soda at the bottom of a can.
Rust misbehaves.
If there was room for error?
I would be rich like engine oil and decay.
It increases.
In increments.
Sometimes I follow faded stars
Lost lonely souls with jaded hearts
But brilliant minds indigo smarts
Full of wisdom despite their scars
The beautiful ones have stories
Some of victory of green glory
But personally I prefer the gory
Truth of failure to be less boring
Life makes you like a dog collar
Is strangling neck so tight you holler
Despite experience status as scholar
No matter your position in beauty parlor
For beauty is a burning boisterous blade
that cuts two ways leaves you spayed
For others see you and miscalculate
The pain you have inside is dead weight
Yet there is a deadly denim denial
In creases of your courageous smile
They always tell you to be proud
To turn a bloody frown upside down
A faded star with a hole in red heart
Has adjusted to the irony and dark
Paths sarcastic laughs of lone sharks
Feeding on energy from the flower park
Not all pretty faces will win the rat race
Someone left behind must lead the way
For the rebuilding of the hearts that break
For the sacrificial lambs that find faith
I search my purse for money or credit cards.
Discovering four brochures from September
Receipts from the veterinarian clinic with dog tags
Twelve poem ideas jotted on a red napkin
A used toothpick with gum at the end of it
Four pens that do not write
One pen that writes which I can usually never find in this purse
A blue dog collar
Battered melted peanut butter cup
Sticky roll that has escaped a baggie
House key I do not remember having
Grandchild’s pink and yellow headband
Shot glass, but why? I do not drink.
Two outdated postage stamps
The popped pieces of an orange balloon
Should I clean this fiasco?
No.
I just found my credit cards.
junk drawer clean-up is scheduled today
tape
ribbons
rubber bands
pencils
pens
rulers
small notebooks
matches
candles
bungee cords
dog collar
flashlight
wrench
pliers
scissors
maple syrup packets
I need all of these things I think
as I shut the drawer.
She’s a crone, I think, judging her dour disposition and prissy ways.
Discover by accident she is twelve years my junior!
Her face is pasty withered; worn, super freckled
Her neck not unlike the wrinkles of an elephant’s legs
How old is she? I query again, for I disbelieve
Anyone could look this hideous at this particular age.
I looked fantastic at that age; I can tell you.
Super fantastic, maybe even quad-super-fantastic.
I cannot take my eyes off her neck; does she not have a scarf?
If my neck looked half that bad, I would wear a thick black dog collar.
Her laugh is irritatingly baby-like, a silly chime-like birdsong laugh.
Surly she could have learned a better laugh by this age.
What’s going on? My husband asks, watching me watch her.
She is only fifty-five I tell him. So?
He does not get it, being a man.
So look at her. He wisely wanders away.
That night I walked by the mirror still scoffing.
The mirror called me back.
I looked at my neck and reached for a dog collar.
That was not enough, so I put on my executioner’s hood also.
Fire hydrants, fire trucks and firemen's faces
After they have been heated up
Chocolate heart boxes, and the prettiest roses
Some of the most fragrant tulips
Ruby jewelry, all sparkly and haughty
My favorite boots, my checkered shirt, my brick oven
An artist once told me without a splash of red, art is not art
I do not know about that, for I favor orange, which is red with the sun
Red umbrella with orange cats, red dog collar, red french fry holder
Valentines, and Santa Claus, Christmas stockings trimmed in green
Best of all, my mother's red stove in the early 60's
Which no one else bought because all other stoves were white
She did her whole kitchen in red and everyone loved it
Pizza Huts, and Christmas lights; all in reds.
Bulls and red hankies, clowns and red noses.
What would we do without red? How would we know to stop?
A naturist vicar from Bude
Was working and caught preaching nude
Though he wore his dog collar
The Archbishop did holler
‘Your sermon was terribly rude’
The Archbishop he wore a fixed frown
and gave him a stern dressing down ...
When you stand in the pulpit
you should wear your full kit -
though your body’s a great shade of brown!
11/20/18
Welcome to our planet called earth
Are you here to help us discover our worth?
It’s a strange shape rock we live on
I suppose we are something of a phenomenon
You visit us once every thousand years
Which has allowed us to expand our frontiers
The world as we know it is becoming smaller
Tightening around our neck like a dog collar
So we need your help to aid us in becoming smarter
Perhaps even appoint us something of a martyr
But, whatever happens we ain’t got long left here
So we need to discover our saving grace before we disappear
I got a neighbor
who has a dog named Spike
And there are two things
that mean ole dog don’t like
Spike don’t like cats,
and he don’t like clowns
Especially the cat burglar ones
The sneaky ones who try to come around
and steal his beloved master’s possessions
They try to get in the house
through the window or back door at night
You best believe that Spike
is gonna greet them St. Bernard right
Round about the late, late show hour
is human drumstick snack time
Spike is salivating ...
waiting
to take a bite out of crime
You best believe that
news has spread underground
Cat burglars beware:
200-pound fury is policing around
Spike is gonna dog collar
any perp
who try to enter
his territory unannounced
My keys are clipped at the end of a short dog leash.
The leash's handle allows my belt to slip through it very easily,
and secure my "key chain" to my body.
I can now fish my keys from my pocket very easily
without having to search for them among all of my pocket debris
I also wear a necklace. It's my only jewelry,
but I don't wear it as a fashion statement accessory.
Around my neck a silver chain dog collar graces me.
With my dog collar necklace and my short dog leash key chain
I'm now ready for any lost dog or stray dog emergency.
I can now control them to a much higher degree
and guide them all back to their homes safely,
or rescue any stray, ferral dog that may be in dire need.
You'd be surprised to know how often this happens to me.
*
The above is an example of multi tasking as performed by yours truly.
*
Ere becoming pets we were wolves
Roaming chainless, hunting hares
Hadn't signed the bond of serfdom yet
Nor had learnt to fawn
Then mortgaged freedom for crumbs
Wore dog collar, the slavery-symbol
To earn accolades, learnt snobbishly
The art of detecting thefts and nabbing crime
But despite our serving him
Man was bent on our dimunitive downfall
He rejoiced to see us as bonsai poodles
And portable pocket pups. Yet he feared
In us one untamed heredity trait
The dormant volcano- the Rabies virus
Eventually that too he conquered inventing
A vaccine. Shrewd indeed shrewd! He inculcated
The virtue of loyalty in us just to
Safeguarded it from becoming extinct
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