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AMBIGIOUS SEIGE

Submitted by Esker on Thu, 2017-02-23 20:08

and the perilous times are upon us...
Cinnamon bun basks
a toasters work
alas
tis stuck
can I do this she thinks
sipping butter from her lips
french manicured nails
gripped on a butter knife
The left side...sinister
is holding back its treasure
the long spool of hair
falls...the racket is clearly
heard the soft bumps
then the dashing like
a marten caught in
a conibear
'fucking thing!'
the knife clatters
bends her body
hand flat
hair dusted with the
crumbs on the faint
lit tiles
black knobs like
indifferent eyes shine
the plug from jack
has risen in its serpentine
winding run like a sync
wave
'got you now muthafukka'
there is a brilliant flash
of epic proportion
in an upstairs window
the light on the brickwork
and eave dripping storm
drain imprinted like a
silent detonation on a vegas
desert...LIFE MAGAZINE
stills 54'
a tremendously loud long
shriek like the noon train
yard whistle
followed by a very clear
'FUCK' that i'm certian
woke the neighbours
three doors down
then the springy tinny
sound of a vintaged old
toaster slamming into
the wall on a pitch
that would have made
Pete Rose blush
the residual destruction
scattering far and wide
more an implosion
then explosion
followed by the most
peculiar of sounds
that Im sure made
the dog bark the most
there is nothing as
flatly rude sounding
as a stainless heavy
butter knife driving
home in soundproofed
drywall
across a kitchen and
into a living room wall
the thudding of running
feet to the bathroom
in good light to examine
up close the gruesome
results and slamming
door were all antecedent

the dawg was muching down
the free bagel
and now safely killed
i pulled my half free
from the jaws of the
mangled monster

she wagged her tail
and the slayer came
through unscathed
posting scorch marks
to Instagram!!

Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

Esker

Wed, 2017-03-01 10:32

Esker's picture

We sat befalling by the music and vignettes of Monty Python in
seventy five at the cottage....all of us...sun falling on the high hills
on dark beautiful tannic width lake across...Epic Times man...
then the news with bloody ol Vietnam....
anyway....I had heard of Red Dwarf....my friend had subscriptions
for STARLOG a science fan mag...and other sci fi mags...
we loved the Dune pictorial and Alien and Blade Runner making
before the movie hit the screen...
I can sing like Neil Young...maybe being native and all..
we did comedic song renditions with guitars...taped a car speaker
to an accoustic and fed it through the amp recorder on LOUD..
needles buried...sounded just like his overfed power chords on
Hey Hey My My and Powderfinger

author comment

Esker

Fri, 2017-02-24 21:10

Esker's picture

a lively sprite my muse...
a firecracker like her momma
my mother I loved her dear
but she stripped the masculinity
from us....Like Mary the giantess
cradling the mortalized
weakened Jesus of marble
I had no powder in my keg
...but they..my women of spirit
grain by grain fed me

the origin of oomph
the big bang

no succubus
no id
just ego
i was supposed to be
an extension
of sorts
no male heir from her
the shadow of all sisters
to a gambling showman
father..
who married many of them
to a line of dominant
masculine males

stories I could write from this
basis of crystal building block
we
like the grit of the mighty pearl
encased like a gunners position
with his sacks of sand
or the tail end charley in his fortress
in the heights

actually....our toaster looks to be
from seventy six..avacado four slicer
so old the applique is worn off the
paint leaving only the aluminum
two heat settings and the main pusher
downer button....
I love it....clean it..oil the springs...
there is nothing like a cold winter night
or damp summer storm to stand next
to it feeling its radiant glow...the cherry
dull red excitement of resistance doing
its thermodynamic dance of atoms
I so love peanut butter and toast
before a main meal....
I could never define why I can still
enjoy a womans meal for me..
after..I have a peanut butter jam
toasted sandwhich...
after a time they accepted my
weirdness and eccentricity
and damn if some of them
could create tapestries of
wonderment upon the simple
raised palette of a common
madman...

toaster on!!

author comment
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