Dragonflies: a Quartet

the Maserati of the insect world

they leap from dawdle to dash

in one second flat





at one moment hovering helicopters

the next fighter planes

daredevil pilots at the controls





coupling in mid-air as if refuelling

how do they do it?

sex on the run





& here comes junior, red-headed

as a matchstick, parents in tow,

learning the ropes

What If I Leave the Dog Out?

What if I leave the dog out?

You can’t leave the dog out. It’s hilarious.

How about the two phone calls?

Necessary to the plot.

But it’s got to be less than 100 words. What if I leave out the storm descriptors?

Then, excuse the pun, you destroy the atmosphere.

How about the phrases I worked hard at?

Like ‘freckled sensibility’ ?

Yes.

It’s a frilly phrase..

But ….

Kill your darlings.

So what do I do?

Regroup. You can fit anything into 100 words.

‘War and Peace’?

Yes, even ‘War and Peace’.

I Like Graphic Novels

I like graphic novels.

I always have.

I like the illustrations.

It’s the little kid in me.

I always wanted to be an illustrator

but I never got past

little stick men, sorry, people.

I like that they can tell a novel-size story

in 64 pages or less

when some writers – I am thinking Pasolini here —

can push it up to 900 pages.

Come on!! as Lleyton Hewitt would say.

I have my little list of favourites:

‘Wilson’ by Daniel Clowes and ‘A Taste of Chlorine’

by that French author

and ‘Maus’, of course, the classic by Art Spiegel.

I remember the excitement when I purchased

‘The Dark Knight Returns’ by Frank Miller when it first came out.

It was like when I bought the just released “Revolver’ by the Beatles

and ran down the ramp of the Adelaide Railway Station to catch

the train home so I could play it on the turntable

only to come a cropper at the end.

It was that kind of excitement.

When in doubt, choose a graphic novel, I say.

Humble Pie

 

man-couple-people-woman-343.jpg

After bickering over breakfast,

and stewing over it all day

she finally found what she wanted —

the clinching morsel.

Now she would serve him his just desserts.

What’s for dinner? he said.

Humble Pie, she answered

as she handed him the perfumed panties

she found in his drawers.

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* have you ever had the ‘pleasure’ of having to eat humble pie?

* photo from pexels.com