At my yearly review, she hands me a recap of my performance.
After a year of working weekends
overtime on short notice-
going the x-tra yard
taking on x-tra projects
dodging H.R (for the most part).
I would be getting .73 cents an hour raise.
My face must've turned gargoyle
because the newbie supervisor
lowered her eyes and apologized.
Nervously adding that she had no hand in determining raises.
Her pimply head nodding toward the ceiling....
Implying the flaccid raise was concocted by the ones upstairs...
Where underworked blonde birds and plump business casual lived.
23 years of work .73 cents an hour raise...
The vending machine on the first floor has candy bars for a buck twenty-five.
I think I'll go celebrate
yeeha.
Set your scowl in stone; immovable neck.
Lace an ornate pearl necklace around throat.
You stand at a cold precipice, a rock.
A snake with slinky-bones, writhing, not slack,
And fangs of gold - they’re not nearly a threat.
Set your scowl in stone; immovable neck.
Those pearly teeth squeeze, kiss with velvet peck;
Constricts like a boa with bruised forget.
You stand at a cold precipice, a rock.
Let down your gargoyle guard, for not a sec.
Why’d you set paper mâché, were you provoked?
Set your scowl in stone; immovable neck.
Spectacular species, like grunting hock,
And won’t even say boo, like bully ghost.
You stand at a cold precipice, a rock.
Unconscionable, a solid train wreck;
Ancestors and posterity revolt.
Set your scowl in stone; immovable neck.
You stand at a cold precipice, a rock.
Gargoyle
Eyes of stone are watching
High above the ground
Protecting from the evil
That lingers all around
Why must you old grotesque one
Dwell there all alone
What immortal sin did you commit
That put you on that throne
Somehow I feel a sorrow
I do not understand
For your are just a creation
Of a sculptures hand
Still something about you moves me
Should I even care
For I’m a free man walking
And you must sit and stare
Gremlin and Gargoyle, a couple of giant alley cats
Swing their tails hard, knocking away six measly rats
They were looking for something meaty to eat
Finally found a opossum carcass, now isn’t that sweet?
What was that huge thing leaping over the gate?
My eyes did not lie; it was a gargoyle named Nate.
I had not seen him since my birthday when I was eight.
I asked where he had been, and he showed me a skate.
I have been winning contests around the world now.
The spectators are amazed, and all say, “oh wow!”
I skate with only one skate in Sweden and Glasgow.
I asked him if he still tormented my grandpa’s cow.
Bessie is dead, but there are others I bother.
Last Wednesday I annoyed dreams of your father.
He was always a jokester, my gargoyle named Nate.
I was glad that he had stopped by my garden gate.
steering blatant revelries, ghouls engaged to death
chomping down streetlight openings in bitter stone
bow walled yew tree drifters, steps of many feet in
shallow parade to pew, the kneel cushion's betrayal
- how the shadowless crave… and the headless sing
a giant genuine gargoyle greets you said the gothic cathedral host.
as if this terrifying statue of scariness is a good thing of which to boast.
the kindergarteners were screaming as they got off the tour bus.
it took weeks for us to simmer them down, me and my teacher pal Gus.
never again we told the principal, we will not take anyone five.
they were frightened to death, thinking they might not leave alive.
extreme the hand snatch the cup
I will collect pride
very good morning my injured limbs
my sons
remember that time only disasters?
but everything in the flesh achieves healing
and already my defeats knew before:
the audacity of courage ignores
who will soon wear shame
she shrinks she hermit gets shy
spreads the sour scent of runaways
quarter to six I woke up
coffee how many sips did i take before i knew?
our trifle insignificance
on the outside it's just a skinny shell
in the middle nerve pulsate membrane
and in the core where it weighs tons
act the gargoyle
that accuses us of being nothing,
my injured limbs,
my sons
Winged gargoyle appeared in my sleep with glaring teeth.
I felt intimidated, there seemed to be sinister ways beneath.
Why would the sleep faerie put such a gargoyle in my dream?
I ran from this monster, my terrified heart pumping full steam!
What makes this faerie special?
She is naked.
The gargoyle rolled his eyes.
They are all naked under their clothes, he said.
True enough.
She is pretty.
He scoffed.
She is kind and generous.
He kept waving his hand, encouraging her to tell him more.
An expert at not having to hold up his end of a conversation.
Gargoyle Dog with his sharp angry claws
Hooded Skeleton sat on a throne of skele-raws.
They had borrowed Grim Reaper’s murdering scythe.
The better to kill trick-or-treaters and others with.
Ebony raven flew past, terrified of this seasonal pair.
Skeleton thrones made of HS’s brothers put evil in the air.
His leering toothy grin encouraged a pronounced sense of horror.
Graveyard was ominous tonight; a vampire would adore her.
Hooded Skeleton sprouts heavy dark devil’s wings; terrible ghoul.
Waiting in the dark for an unsuspecting, optimistic young fool.
An idiot who will think it’s fun to tease the undead on Halloween night.
If he has a thimble of sense he will quickly take a look and die of fright.
Can I scare one if it walks by? Gargoyle Dog asks hopefully.
Hell no, Hooded Skeleton replies. What are you – dope-fully?
If one comes by, I’ll murder them slowly, take all the blame.
Gargoyle Dog began sharpening his claws in case no one else came.
A gargoyle with an injured paw
Tried to dance at Ma’s corn pone heehaw.
Unfortunately he hurt his jaw.
Loud crow came by, hit him with his caw.
The hoedown was pretty much in full swing.
When ghosts crashed it with a ting-a-ling.
The gargoyle got mad. His fight he did bring.
They all ended up in the pokey. One in a sling.
Creepy vampires got into the entity fray.
They jumped into the jail cells in middle of day.
A rumble started. I had to look away.
At the end of the vampires were victors with a bray.
The faeries heard and brought in October’s moon.
She flashed them soundly and made them swoon.
She brought in black cats who spit and hissed.
The rumor is that the gargoyle was soundly kissed.
Even though he had an injured paw, and lost a fight.
All in all, he had a pretty good Halloween night.
He and the crow ended up friends all right.
The entire scene was a miraculous sight.
water spurting
from a gargoyle spout…
I am drawn to
the gurgling of a baby
in his mother’s arms
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
© 20th January 2020
[Published in Cattails Spring/April issue 2020 p. 86]
Editor’s choice:
The hinge of the poem by Paul Callus is a homophony - gargoyle and gurgle. The similar sound reveals a distinction between a hideous gargoyle and an innocent baby, but the baby if it cries - spouts water - can also look like a gargoyle. However, this is circumvented by the mother’s care so the poem begins in the ugly but ends in Madonna-like serenity and centres on the implied but absent fountain - of tears or of life and love.
Sonam Chhoki
- - - - - - - - - -
Gargoyle sits on Magnificent Mile
Glaring at passengers
Most never smile
They head for the El
They’re headed out west
Where they live with their families
Who think they’re the best….
Gargoyle glares as they get off the train.
Hates them soundly with his mean concrete brain.
His life until two thousand and twenty
Now he waits for people, there ain’t many.
Did they die? He asks his gargoyle mate.
Maybe her answer; she cares not their fate.
I now live in the country
Where I can take my pet gargoyle for a brisk walk
Among roosters, foxes, and quail.
They pretend indifference.
None staring
None pointing feathers, claws or paws.
Not one screaming or shrieking.
Not one crossing the street in a prissy, haughty way
Like the stuck-up New Yorkers do when I take him for a
Walk down Fifth Avenue.
Only one of hundreds of reasons I
Prefer living in the country….
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