The Quail You Say
Quite Another Organic Matter
Why Everyone Doesn’t Like the Same Old Things
Ceramic and Other French Poverty
Lemon Venom–What a Phenomenon
On That Farm He Had a Dog–D-A-W-G
Keeping It Down–Testing Gag Reflexes
Awaiting Dreadful Fall
Stashed Away In Drawers
Think Backward From One To Ten
Science Behind Everyday Appliances
Invisible Solar Eclipses
Seize the Moment Midstream
Another New Wrinkle
Headlights and Other Illuminations
Behind the Scenes, Seldom Seen
Lots of letters–of course
Enough vowels to avoid confusion
Could be blissful, wistful, strong
Not likely to be wasted words
Describing persons, places, things
Peppered with apostrophes
To mark missing letters
Hyphens were popular
As were, compound words
Wait a minute–I said as I pondered
What I’d just written was absurd
Words weren’t supposed to be
Compounded to confound
The best words were those
Used in casual conversations
Not those hard to remember
I missed the era when euphemisms, metaphors, and, even, mixed metaphors proliferated. It took creativity to come up with some of them–blind hogs, acorns; horses led to water; the art of catching flies with honey, instead of vinegar. People talked around things instead of going straight for the jugular.
It was a dreamlike state–watching silent movies with captions. For some odd reason–I knew when it would rain. What to do when people ran out of crutches to lean on? What would bowling on the moon be like?
You would be surprised to learn–as I was. Prognosis, everyone was waiting for payday–it was only Wednesday. The diagnosis was hypnosis. What was that out the window? It was a fog bow. And, you didn’t know? Open another box of “try not to act surprised.”
“A broiled chicken breast shaped like the state of Illinois, contributed by my niece and great-nephew.”
I’m convinced there are generic people–substitutions for the real thing, put on earth to resemble other people. Almost as good as the real thing, sometimes the match is exact to the point of one asking, “Don’t I know you from somewhere? Aren’t you Roger Jackson, SJHS, class of ’82?”
“You must be mistaken. I’ve never seen you before in my life,” Replied the irritated stranger. Any conversation beyond that point would have been considered stalking.
In this crazy mix of doppelgängers, the generic person’s destiny was fulfilled. Near-matches destined to embarrass–create moments of awkwardness.
There’s also the possibility both parties were generic and not about to reveal their true purposes.
Of course there are those lucky/unlucky enough to resemble celebrities. They work for talent agencies as celebrity doubles.
There’s supposed to be a double for everyone, out there somewhere. Nobody cares if one resembles Joe or Jane Schmo from Anywhere, USA.
Elfin John, and someone
named, Elvis Davis
in a bit of lunacy
the twinge–not, just one
there were two of them
they wanted three
patterns and stripes
tried on for sighs
nothing too loose
nothing to lose
last chance for change
missed–because, they did
and that was all-there was
If the late, great, old-school comedian were still here–he might have this to say.
“No respect…I get no respect. Went to the Kentucky Derby–bet on this horse to win. I shoulda known better. What kind of name is Nyquil for a horse–anyway? It fell asleep at the finish line. …Pa–rump, bump…”
Most magicians waved their wands in the air
Astounded with amazing feats of prestidigitation
Made mesmerized subjects dance in their underwear
Convinced others to cluck like chickens
If I had a magic wand to wave
And it were up to me
I’d make folks happy
With what they already had
Give them, what they
Didn’t know they needed
What can I get you?
More haiku with mayonnaise-
on the side this time