Poignancy Wafflebottom

The saloon doors slammed open to reveal a buxom woman silhouetted against the fading sun. In truth, this woman was well padded not just above the waist, but also below, such that an hourglass would pale by comparison.

She squinted into the smoky room, lifting one corner of her upper lip and revealing a ragged set of brownish teeth. She snorted and spit a wad of tobacco and phlegm with perfect trajectory into the spittoon situated next to Wide Burp with such force that it jangled his spurs.

Burp tipped his hat back to get a better look at the newcomer, unveiling an enormous proboscis and a lazy eye. His good eye locked upon the figure in the doorway and an involuntary intake of air nearly sucked the flame from the candle on his table.

Burp quickly stood, shoulders back, chest out, and belly sucked in as much as was humanly possible.

“Ma’am.” He tipped his hat flirtatiously. “Won’t you join me?”

She paused for a moment, looking into his good eye (his lazy eye wandered up and down her form), before sashaying over and placing her enormous gloved hand onto his extended palm.

“Wide Burp, at your service.” A slight bow accompanied his words.

“Poigancy Wafflebottom,” she replied in a sultry baritone, giving his hand a bone-crunching squeeze. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Burp knew his life would never be the same. But he was instantly head over heels in love (or was it lust) with Poignancy Wafflebottom, and there was no going back. She was his destiny.

Emergency Room Slide

I stand outside his room

my back to the wall.

 

Hospital staff walk by.

Some push equipment

others chat in strolling pairs

None of them look at me.

 

Their eyes slide past.

I am not a person here.

Just a figment attached

to a room number

and its patient in distress.

Eavesdropping

From where I sit in my office 

door closed

trying to write, 

the dishwasher sounds like 

a hushed conversation. 

I try to discern the discourse. 

Maybe it could become dialogue 

in my latest story. 

But it remains vague. 

As frustrating as eavesdropping 

on my grandparents, 

trying to gain inside information regarding 

gifts and other secrets, 

but their low voices 

coupled with the German they spoke, 

kept me properly completely mystified.

Secret

She knew a secret.
It was not heavy.
It was not difficult.
It was neither gray sky
nor thunder loud.

 

Instead, it was light
as an autumn leaf twirling
on an easy breeze.
It was a brilliant sunrise
quiet as a whisper.

 

Her secret was kindness
in the face of indifference.
It was the promise of a rainbow
after the raging storm.
It was love in a time of anger.

Late August

 In late August, the honey in my little plastic bear

has turned to near solid amber,

zinnias still stand tall but now with

yellowed leaves,

gayfeather have lost their luster,

white cone flowers show black bug bites,

and autumn creeps ever closer.

Bedlam

Conflicting statements

rescinded truths

screams and rants and shouts

and wails.

Faces tense with rage

insincere smiles 

and pouting mouths

spilling lies and bile.

And then there's 

raucous bird song

drumming rain

sighing winds and

deep exhales.

Exit the bedlam.

Save yourself.

Gerald's Picnic

 

“Hey Gerald. I came as quickly as I could. What’s so important?”

“Sherry, I have put together an amazing surprise for you. It was a lot of hard work to get it all here, but you’re worth it baby. Nothing’s too good for my lady.”

Sherry turned her attention from Gerald to take in the sumptuous and romantic meal spread before her. Fried chicken, biscuits, fruit, a beautiful cake, and glasses of wine, already poured, covered the entire picnic table.

“Oh Gerald! It’s stupendous! Did you really do all of this just for me?”

“Of course my love,” he replied, anticipating the passionate appreciation Sherry would demonstrate later. “Let’s start with desert, shall we?”

Gerald leaned in for a kiss, but Sherry went to sample the rich cake. She would have liked to have dived into it, but she restrained herself.

“I still can’t believe you carried all of this out here by yourself. It must have taken you a long time.”

“Don’t give it another thought my dear,” he crooned. Just as he leaned in to try and steal a kiss, another couple arrived at the table. Gerald’s face turned red and he quickly suggested that they leave.

“But Gerald, we haven’t had our lovely dinner yet. You went through all this work and…”

The other woman at the table looked at her and Gerald, disgusted. The man swatted at them, but not before Gerald grabbed a juicy grape and made a hasty retreat.

“I can’t believe how fast those pesky ants moved in on our picnic,” the man said to the woman. “I was only gone for a few minutes to meet you in the parking lot.”

Gerald now knew that his plans for a romantic evening with Sherry were ruined. She had left with such speed that she had all but left skid marks from her fast moving feet. But hey, there were plenty more lady ants – and picnic tables in the world.