That was when a demon materialized,
spiritually, with a flourish that seemed
part oily simper, and part haughty airs
and grandeur, as if bred-to-the-manner
manor-born, he whimpered a bit of obsequious
slander, muttered a few vows for our behalf
(brandishing signed copies of our respective
powers-of-attorney), pronounced us wife +1,
then drew a huge butcher knife and, gathering
my beloved bride up in one great striding lunge,
twisted her by the waist in a graceful dance
that left her wrapped up in his embrace,
with her throat trickling ruby beads
from a paper-fine cut
from an edge that barely glanced,
barely whispered skin tickling across her
neck, then rested - now pressed
- "STOP!" I thundered,
"I'LL DO ANYTHING!"
"It's for the insurance money," he smoothly
countered, producing as if from his left hand
the inappropriate document, all tallied up
and accounted for - displaying a disreputably
respectable amount. "All you have to do
is testify falsely against her and her neighbor,
and her neighbor's wife and her neighbor's goods
will be yours to covet!"
"I love it!" she interjected - ever
the irrepressible scamp! The rogue,
oh I love you so pale girl of mine,
sweet bride of my soon-to-be future
salad days of roses and wine, whatever
you're made of, whatever the heart
discloses, in my mind I am going to
find a way to get you out of this
fix. I suppose!
But how? As we stood on the edge
of this canyon cliff, I waited
for my chance to hang on his every
measured word and I glared at this demon,
all-but-double-dog-daring him to speak
his next impudence! "Give me any chance,
any opening to pounce," my eyes signaled!
glistening with resistance or perhaps, defiance
would be more appropriate, in
a situation like this.
gigantic in the distance, a Giant sat
with his huge ass perched out over the canyon's edge
and shat and shat a chain of gigantic loose-linked stools
piling up at the bottom of the canyon
like a train wreck.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
Try the RANDOM button, to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.