hour 17

Mike, Mike, Mike,
what day is it?
Cockadoodledo he sings,
not a fag hag instead
a dyke Mike,
following around the lez
like a puppy-wannabe poodle.

He wants to groom
her Bristol mons and
pluck her eyebrows
into unreal arches,
so she looks
excited, awake, intense

Despite her straight line
unibrow which dips into
a v as she scowls at him
in dissent.

He begs and pleads
tweezers in hand,
I can make you more beautiful!

“More” she responds, guffawing

Just clean me up a bit
and be done with it
as she leans back in the chair.

 

hour 16

Shoulderblade Sea Cats
 
Wear Peruvian Hats or Heavy Bonnets
On Strawberry Tops
 
Snout Otter Clams
Have Incised Moon mouth and 
False Cup-and-Saucers
 
Tricolor Niso  and Triangular Nutmeg bring
Woody Canoebubble or Leather Donax
While Shuttlecock Volva and Lazarus Jewel Box
Glitter and shine in coastal Suns

But at night Ghastly Miter 
Tuberculate Emarginula
With Sparse Dove with Atlantic Turkey Wings
All are Unequal Bittersweet 
Striped Engina

hour 15

Sensible descriptions

Her small upturned nose
Slightly pink and swollen
Set ever so slightly off-center
Between her immense
Round sky-blue eyes
Framed by sweeping brown bangs
Her fair skin highlighted
With pale pink lipgloss

hour 14

Ten lies Stranger to the truth
Life is easy.
Only the good die young.
Man was created in God’s image.
Life’s a breeze.
This will only hurt a little.
Life is what you make it.
Time heals all wounds.
Life is a bowl of cherries.
We are living on borrowed time.
There’s always tomorrow.
This is it.

hour 13

Early light in Poodledom
Each day I spend dawn waiting
Clicker training they call it
Instead I am just anticipating
I yawn and stretch they sit,
drink coffee in bed,
play games until they quit
One asks if I’ve been fed
as the other presses a button
I dance before I am led
by a leash on my morning walk

hour 12

Kennings poem

Get me some Negro nitro, he yelled.
She nodded grabbing the pot on her way behind the counter.
Keep it down, she whispered as she poured.
He growled, Don’t back lip me. Just finish up and let’s blow this joint.
Five more minutes, Hun. I’ve gotta refill my station, she said.
I’ve got it Sue. Just punch out and take your blowhole with you.

hour 11

incandescent glow
from the wired
wrapped tight
beaming
through the blown glass
be it black, red, or white
from Edison
we lumin
from darkness, night, or cloudy day
but more importantly
we preserve our food
in a new and modern way

hour 10

Wine poetry

Tannin tart rests in ruby
Fizz and fuzz in fruity
Bare in blanc
Be it daring and dry
Let the cork be wet
With wine

hour 9

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When you need to go
Remember the paper
Be it one ply or two
Scott’s will take care of you