Jewelry Art by Meredith Arnold ♠ Poetry by Peter V. Dugan 
Sitting at the bar and grill,
the cable news played on . . .
Suffering from aphasia,
the lily-white oracle let out a yowl
and the evil one, an unworthy
moth-eaten egotist, summoned Herod
and his hard hat Hessians,
the hyphenated genetic mutations
of eclectic bred fugitives whose DNA
was unearthed in the nuthatch ossuary
of the pre-Inca arch and mixed
with the victims of death ray assailants
to embark on a witch hunt to prevent
Amber Erato, the gypsy moth
freehand-firebrand ballerina,
(always bejeweled and adorned
in the latest Moscow neckwear)
from securing air shaft arsenals
of retrofit ivory meteorites.
The walls began closing in around me.
A child’s nose gushes blood,
a woman belches in my ear
and I may be addicted to manicures . . .
I have too much faith in everyone’s humanity
to go big and edit out the oxygen debt
of the merciless, bad egg mime,
writhing town drunk and his lost boys of Bolivia
who committed the notorious year-end arson,
clad in their no-nonsense taste test high tops
and oil drum swimwear; arrested and convicted,
only to be found guilty of failing to pay
the shoeshine estate tax and the airing
of cheesy trailer park donkey porn.
How did I not know Jack the Ripper
was never captured?
While sea-dogs on safari, swineherd huntsman
and other East Rockaway romantics conspire
with ground crew iron riveters overhead in the i cloud;
show a semblance of sentient thought.
by serving oyster stew in an anchovy fishbowl.
Write this down in stone if you have to,
” I’ve already seen that movie.”
So, please send someone to drive me home.
I’m scared.
Thanks.
distortion
she stares at the night sky
rolling blackness blots out light
waits for the right words
lighting flashes thunder crashes
checks the star charts
winds whip and swirl
looks for constellations
unending rain falls
and seeks an alignment
deluge overflows river banks and levees
of planets to inspire her
torrents flood streets and avenues
a meteor shower of words
cascades and rushes over
flashes before her eyes
and through buildings and homes
leaves impact craters
washes away cars and trucks
on blank pages
debris and driftwood
filled with her creation
animals and people
become flotsam and jetsam
of a poem.
High Wire
She tiptoes the tightrope
at night
balancing food and drink
between tables
at the local bar and grill.
A wolves’ den of ravenous
thirsty alphas
and
sometimes
bitchy she-wolves
who bark and snarl
their orders.
Always gracious with a smile,
she aims to please.
Performs cartwheels, pirouettes
and flips,
working for two-fifty an hour
plus tips.
At home she’s just
a thirty-three old
single mom
balancing rent, groceries
and necessities
for her child.
As a teenager she never dreamed
of joining a circus.
See more art from Comedian Artist Instructor Meredith Arnold at www.mereditharnold.com
Peter V. Dugan host the poetry reading series Celebrate Poetry at the Oceanside Library, Oceanside NY and have written 4 collections of poetry. His poems have been published in several print and online publications, including Contemporary American Voices, Long Island Quarterly, Aberration Labyrinth, Grub Street, Literary and Arts Magazine and Aitia, Philosophy-Humanities Magazine.
Leave a Reply