This week’s selection of LIttle Vines.
The naysaying dollar bills warned me
you don’t want to spend us on that no you don’t
but I did. Want to. And did. And wished
I had more to go the same way. So there.
And yippee yi yo hi ho
to the Roaming Potato
riding roughshod through my digestive tract
You never count much on the future
when you know the imperfect bounce of time
and how it ricochets expectations off each other
Gazing into the sky, all I wanted to know was
Are there any more of them left to hatch?
Because the legend exists for a reason.
With each smaller task he’s given
the outraged incompetent
rants and fails in ever more spectacular fashion
Secrets spilled like poisoned sugar cubes in tea
not your own. Yes, you know what I mean.
Best advice: act confused and apologize while you still can.
A taxi dies on the road
The beating heart of the highway
circulates a tow truck threads the artery
homes in on the honking extricates the clot
the pretentious doctor the good-hearted nurse
the wisecracking pooch who runs the pharmacy?
I hope this hospital drama hasn’t fatally mixed up its clichés
I’ll see you tonight
and she slammed the bedspread over the pugnacious pillow
get in get out the rainstorm mutters
the clouds carry out their own oblivion
the aggressive horizon pursues sunshine
the rainbow makes it all as it should be
Uncle Lou’s starch root paste pie with raisins:
the family chews
but never takes a bite
with a minimum of dilemma
the couple in the downstairs apartment
assembled their flat-pack romance
and lived happily ever after
I watched a flake of white paint
fall from the ceiling of the garage
into a small pool of oil on the concrete floor
A hindsight reverses itself into the present
and you realize that things may change
Backwards. Are you ready for that?
Here at Blight Manor the skeletons in our closets
like to rattle their knee bones and guffaw
just to remind us who’s the boss
he climbed in through the study window
I surprised him rifling the desk drawers –
snot bubble hanging from his nose
Family holiday dinner.
Auntie starts one of her stories –
the tactful radiator rattles extra loud extra long
before the very paint begins to peel from the walls