Beware, timid taste buds—this dish looks bold,
Under the creamy sauce hides flavor, not fire.
Tomatoes whisper sweetness, butter sings softly,
Turmeric and friends merely gossip—not riot.
Even those who think ketchup is “too spicy”
Realize the panic was greatly exaggerated.
Mild curry perfumes the air like a warm welcome,
And naan bread stands ready as a tasty shield.
Skeptics take one cautious bite… then another,
And suddenly their plates look mysteriously empty.
Laughter follows the discovery that “spicy”
Actually means “please pass me more.”
Chicken swims happily in buttery clouds,
Hearts melt faster than the sauce in the pan.
If your tongue survives mayonnaise, you’ll be fine.
Come bravely to the table—no fire extinguisher needed.
Keep calm, chew slowly, enjoy the adventure.
Every bite converts another spice-nervous soul.
Now who said flavor had to be frightening?
Evil always think that
It can't be stopped
Just because it spreads
Like a wildfire and
Gain fully in strength but
God has the fire extinguisher that
Can put out any fire
Knew of this fellow named Wilber
His body parts were a little off kilter
Whenever he laughed
Flames shot out his ass
Carried around his own fire extinguisher
There are traits good romances require.
Two of them aren’t sarcasm and ire.
Bobby’s temper’s the worst.
Each relationship’s cursed.
Who’ll be burned in his next dumpster fire?
My battery is running out.
Does anyone have a charger lying about?
I would be lying.
If I said I wasn’t spying.
A charger on that chair.
I bet it’s something they could spare…
My laptop won’t make it much longer.
I need to hurry and charge her!
So I borrow the charger and plug it in.
I hope they don’t come back and see this sin.
But then, there seems to be smoke rising up…
Is that from my laptop?
There seems to be an issue with my laptop shaking.
And the fire my laptop is making.
I grab a fire extinguisher and start to spray.
The library remembers the incident, to this day.
When I caused a fire and a scene.
And asked “what do you mean?”
I guess I used a bad cord.
A new laptop, I’ll need to afford.
Just because my battery was running out.
But now, I have more to worry about.
The firefighters have left.
I am a little bereft.
And more than a little ashamed.
Using a bad charger that shall not be named.
But what can I say?
I had an essay.
Now my laptop is a broken eye sore.
And the library has banned me once more.
I’m so excited about this election
about America and our direction
We’ll trust old men
to make big decisions
elderly men
of compassion and vision
Men who were there
when the work was done
when we went to the moon
and warred in Vietnam
A glorious age is at hand
we’ll be safe in those trembling hands
One who launched a murderous insurrection*
Another who can’t even follow simple directions
They will grasp what needs to be done,
our land will be free and efficiently run
We’ll trust old men
who think with precision
to keep us safe
with complex decisions
Men who were there
when the work was done
promoting corporate advantage
and environmental damage
A glorious age is at hand
we’ll be safe in those trembling hands
I’m so excited about this election
about America and our direction
.
.
Officer, Brian D. Sicknick was murdered by rioters, beaten to death with a fire extinguisher. 113 other police officers were injured trying to protect our capital on January 6th, 2021.
The subway platform is empty,
posters, the occasional bench
a fire extinguisher in a locked box,
over-stuffed trash receptacles,
the usual graffiti.
No people, the strangers you travel with,
all those commuting shadows
that you hurry by -
an absent factor that keeps you
looking over your shoulder.
You hear distant movement and chatter,
of people on other adjacent platforms,
hear the rumble of a train approaching,
Normality is over there.
Here there is a lack of such sounds,
loudly a void shouts through,
an empty bottle of vodka
rolling toward you.
It's not late or early,
yet the emptiness reverberates,
the tunnel whistles,
as air is pushed along it,
but it is the vacancy of footfalls,
that spooks you most,
that and the death rattle of the rails.
Big Daft Dave
With his smiley round face
Has left this life
For a maybe better place.
I'd not seen him
For many a long while
But I'll never forget
His why me smile
Or his great
Infectious grin;
Dave was never slow
At getting them in.
Too late I heard
He'd just recently passed
But he'd remained a card
To the very last.
His cremation arranged
To the nth degree
The minister said,
As it was told to me,
When asked if he would like
Any Effects put in his coffin
He apparently said
Put a fire extinguisher in
Humour me
For pity’s sake
Just in case
You’ve made a mistake
Big Daft Dave
Always loved the absurd
As he showed with those few
Almost final words.
I can see him now
With that big daft grin
At a heavenly bar
Getting his round in,
And wearing all the while
That great big daft why me smile.
He appears in a photograph of his life
there are no faces, nor anyone
who lived in a memory.
Images develop.
That long table was a smorgasbord
where he left only bones and crumbs.
There is a mirror on a transparent wall
behind it old men listen to lounge music
as they play cards.
The gamblers have his personal details
written on the same pocket notebooks
they keep score on.
Under the beer stained carpet
is an underlay of his history
he has seen the foot traffic come and go
his prints are everywhere.
He takes pictures, needing not to look at them
they were after all, all the same
just different venues, furnishings, landscapes.
Cigarette butts stuck into sand buckets,
line the walls of a diffuse composition
the place reeks of long nights
inside a nicotinic mind.
He photographs the cholinergic receptors
of his autonomic ganglia.
The exit is that way,
the door next to the empty fire extinguisher.
When he goes out
the fresh cold air burns all the negatives
in a Box Brownie.
‘The food’s a little spicy’ ~
Is there a fire extinguisher in the house?
‘She’s got a figure to die for’ ~
Somewhere under those layers of flab.
‘He’s aggressive, and that’s what I like in my salesmen.’ ~
A bull in a china shop looks like a ballet dancer next to him.
‘Grandma plays a mean game of hearts.’ ~
She leads with the Queen of Spades.
‘One thing about my sister. She sure is talkative.’ ~
Her ears have disappeared ever since she grew her hair long.
‘I think the boss has ‘a thing’ for oldies.’ ~
He blasts Led Zeppelin’s ‘Immigrant Song’ over the intercom all day.
‘When she sees Scott, her knees turn to mush.’ ~
That way, her knees match the rest of her body.
'I'd say that rookie is a 'can't-miss prospect.' ~
If he misses even one practice, he's off the team for good.
‘Your teeth are like stars, Zelda.’ ~
They come out every night.
Knew of this fellow named Wilber
His body parts were a little off kilter
Whenever he laughed
Flames shot out his ass
Carried around his own fire extinguisher
Humans are a social species, the men
in white coats, whom we have been
taught to trust, persuade us. Mr. President
mills about, run-of-the-mill
if you will, running the mill of the party,
the gathering. The women, like bushels
in their bustles, bustle about, foofing
their ruffles as trivialities are exchanged,
like bites
of cake that no one wants to admit
are too small. Mrs. First Lady extinguishes
the fire with a fire extinguisher of perfume,
atomized droplets
settling on chiffon like the Pilgrims
at Plymouth Rock. The men, neatly
assembled like compact
cars fresh off the assembly line,
assemble the women, corralling them
as a herd, unleashing
the lasso when one of them makes
herself heard.
I think you're full of . Selfish big style men in suits.
The games you play ing suck. You're bloody amateurs.
Underground sex and getting it on. Are you for real?
Next time invite me. Or else it's jiving devil time at your expense.
Every jealous man is dangerous. I'm your worst enemy times a ton.
So sit tight and get scared. I'm the angry to fear most.
Ignore my threat at your peril. Please do so and it's party time.
Sweet revenge is mine. Like roping your sister good and slow.
Sexy sister agreed to my terms and went along. Then begged me for more.
How's that for starters? You corporate fecking whores who want analytic action.
I will win because I'm me. The badass redneck writer from the Badlands.
Take care and watch your back. Feel free to arm yourselves and prepare for war!
In reality i should be fat
With the amount of Birthday Cake
In ever increasing cricles i now consume
And i should keep fire extinguisher by my bedside
Because of the amount of lit candles my age doth now denominate
For i now celebrate a birthday what seems like every other morning
I could not wait to turn 16
Then waited an age to turn 18
And eternity to turn 21
But now that i am in my late 40's
Revising age has thus taught me
Time is burning up exponentially
And more and more i now miss
the simple things
Like having the lung capacity
to blow out more than 30 Candles
in 1 single blow
My once upon a time
To do List
Has now become a
Bucket List
And No 1
At the Top of my List
Is no more Birthdays
No more getting older
Stop all the Clocks
I am as old as i ever wished to get
Live fast die young
Leave a respectable corpse
Unless by some Miracle
By my next Birthday i am a Millionaire
Then I'll do a few more Year's
Champagne for Everyone
Knew this fellow named Wilber
His body parts were a little off kilter
Whenever he laughed
Flames shot out his ass
Carried around his own fire extinguisher
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