Five Angry Snickers

What are we even doing here?

You took us from the cool supermarket shelves and abandoned us on this warm table.

Why?

Because some kids might rock up on Halloween and say “Trick or Treat?” and you don’t want to come across as the bad guy.

Well, take a look around. No one’s knocked.

What are you going to do with us? You don’t even like chocolate.

Oh God, you’re not going to dump us, are you? Can we appeal to your better nature and take us back to the supermarket? They’ll be glad to see us.

Wait. Did you hear that? There’s a knock at the door. I see three goblins peering through the window. They’re for us.

What Happens in the Hedges ….

The problem was I wasn’t getting any and I was pissed off by those who were —- and the timing was dreadful, 6a.m. after a heavy night.

It wouldn’t have been so bad — in fact I probably wouldn’t have heard it at all —-if I hadn’t opened the house up before hitting the sack but the bureau had predicted gully breezes during the night, just the thing to cool the house down after the heatwave. So I heard it loudly and clearly. But what was it?

I had to get up and find out. Of course, soon as I go outside, the noise stops.

So I stand still. It starts again. Meek little noises and a furious flapping . It comes from the hedge. High up.

Hey! I call out. Hey?

Just then a head pops out, glaring at me as if I am the intruder and not it.

What the fuck are you staring at? He asks.

Now I’m not in the habit of speaking to pigeons even ones that speak to me first but this one clearly has an attitude.

I get the leaf blower. It isn’t a 44 magnum but it blows them right away.

That afternoon they’re at it again, he and his paramour, on the clothes line humping amongst all the clean washing.

Hey! I say. Hey!

He looks down , glaring at me. Don’t even think about it! He says.

You’re over the top, mate, way over the top. You need taking down a peg or two.

He groans. She groans. Even I groan at the gratuitousness of such a pun.

Ahh well, pigeons will be pigeons I say and head inside for a snooze.

My Madeleine Moment

 

 

Try a Madeleine, Marcel says.

It worked for me.

So I do

Opening up the family tree

As far back as my grandma

 

That little old lady

Who sat me on her lap

told me stories

In the park

& always wore widow-weeds

Midnight dark

 

who happily each Xmas,

Chopped the chooks’

heads

off

 

& we’d

watch them

run around the yard

higgledy-piggeldy

in shock.

 

do you have memories of your grandma?

 

• photo by Alexandre Godreau from Unsplash

icy innuendoes

The bite

Of frost

In the air;

The breath

Of winter

On my neck

 

those icy

Innuendoes

down the pike,

The touch

Of winter

In yr text

 

• photo from Unsplash by Oscar Sutton

Devil of a Prompt

This little red demon is driving me mad. Why? Because I can’t come up with a poem or flash fiction piece or even a caption to go with it.  Can you? Would love to hear what you come up with. Please post your contribution in the comment column. It will be great to see the results. The little red demon will be pleased too

Locked Out

Let me in. Let me in, I say.

I’ve been locked out.

Do you know how late it is?

Maybe it’s a mistake. I forgive you.

Just let me in. Please.

I need to get back inside my own body

So I can get to sleep.

 

* photo by Gina Neri from Unsplash

Still Waters

Still waters run deep, his mum said

What did she know?. He took the plunge anyway

Swept up in its flow.

Emerged twenty years later,

Three kids, a mortgage, wife in tow.

Was it worth it?

Hell, yeh. Wished he could have let her know.

 

* photo from pexels.com by Gabor Coyamo

 

The 8 Minute 40 Second Orgasm

I was on the home stretch from the shops when it came on. I turned it up and pulled in the driveway but remembering the baby was probably asleep in the bedroom, I turned it down a little but not off. I stayed in the car as the music made me shudder, the windows vibrate, eyes closed for the occasion as Prince worked himself into a frenzy… It was the extended mix not the radio edit. How could you walk away from the 8 minute 41 second orgasm that is ‘Purple Rain’?

The Magic Button

I was locked in a cab once

when the driver

went off

to get a can of petrol

& I wanted

to get out.

My hands flew all over the place.

 

Then the driver when he got back

bent down

& showed me

The Magic Button

at the base of the passenger side door handle.

All you had to do was pop it

& Open Sesame!

 

It’d be good, I thought,

to have a magic button each time

you were locked in

somewhere unpleasant:

 

Like a meeting you couldn’t get out of,

A Xmas get together that had turned ugly

a flight that went on far too long

Or a poem you couldn’t find a way out from.

 

* pic from Wiki-commons

Off With the Fairies

Where’s Uncle Midge? I asked

one sunny afternoon.

He’s off with the fairies again, aunty said

Then quickly changed the topic.

Off with the fairies? How did aunty know?

Did he leave a note saying he’d be back

By so and so a time?

It was hard to imagine Uncle frolicking with the fairies

if that is what

One does when one is ‘off with them’.

He seemed too weighty and substantial for that.

And anyway where was he off to?

Where does one go when one is ‘off with the fairies’?

I looked out the lounge room window out

To the backyard where uncle often used to wander

But there was nothing — only a pair

Of garden gnomes who seemed to be smiling

As if they had seen something.