Sunday, May 26, 2013

Dancing with Ashley (a haiku)

Her pumpkin hair on
My finger's forehead breathing
Essence of wonder

Saturday, May 25, 2013

If Loony Toons Went Gangster. . .

   Bugs Bunny was in the ICU, anesthetized and hooked up to an IV.  His pimp medallion was stained scarlet and the sapphires in his dental bling were cracked. 

   His diamond studded ears a-twitching, he dreamed a dream.  The historic dream of what had been.

   "Thee-uh-dee-uh-dee-uh-THAT'S ALL FOLKS!"  This time really was.  It really was the last loony toon.  Warner Brothers was bankrupt.  Disney was destitute. 

   In fact the entire entertainment industry was going under.  Brix Industries had created the end-all-be-all of entertainment media, the Democratron.  It synthesized alternate universes!  It played tennis!  Its wiry-brain had Shakespeare as well Spongebob!  It could play Mozart and sing Kesha!  And, if it had to, it would even pretend to be Barney.

   Well, Elmer Fud and Bugs Bunny, the two toons with the fattest checks, were used to a grandiose life.  And with no more Loony Toon cash they needed another way to make money... organized crime, why not. 

   No less "loony". 

   Bugs Bunny was now called 'B.B.' and head-honcho of 'Two Four K. Intelligentsia' gang.  Elmer Fud AKA 'God Fudda' was still Bugs Bunny's enemy and leader of 'Platinum'. 

   "Alright, bromio, whadda ya say?," said B.B, "Want in on the 'Two Four K. Intelligentsia'?  If yes, you pogo!  Hip-hop yo butt to Half-dollar Hive with this basketball.  When you get there "Platinum" peeps'll be all in yo face, askin' what you be doin' on Fudda turf, but they won't know you work feh' me.  You tell 'em you want to become a "Platinum".  They'll pat you down feh' guns and knives and all, but they let you hang on to that ball.  When they bring you in teh' chat with God Fudda, that's the critical moment.  You see that little string coming outta the ball?  This is ain't no ordinary ball, it's a gun pretendin' to be a ball.  Pull the string and God Fudda go bye bye!"

   B.B. handed over agent orange.  'Bromio' was impressed, this thing had realistic basket ball gripple, a hard springiness, and weighed less than he thought it would.

   "I like the way you layed it out man!  There's just one thing...," said the newbie Gangster.

   "What's up, doc?"

"This!"  Bromio pulled the sting and a blazing bullet burst.  The Rabbit took it the shoulder and suffered severe blood loss.  Shortly thereafter 'Bromio' was murked.  Bug's body went into shock and his mind went into faint awareness of medics and flashing lights.

The Magus Bottle (A Poem)

After doing dishes I took a dandy brandy bottle out of the garbage
And she was pleased to meet me.
The rusty robin’s nest scratched away her old skin in the rinse water.

 Katie I named her, my imagination station, my magus bottle.
A magic wand spilled ink over her roundish body,
Replacing the labels she had been stripped of.
Katie had been given a tattoo.

Christmas Season’s reason gave paint and brushes to create
A full spectrum color plectrum
Tracing the flower and the rainbow lettering,
Tracing my baritone valves and my trombone slide,
Tracing the symbol pad and the piano keys.

Her body took in the new blood of paint in place of the dandy brandy some vampire had depleted her of.

With a musical instrument that produces no sound, I would welcome the new year.