WHARVED

Our Last Shred of Decency

Thieves made off
with our last
shred of decency

when I was
this close to
pawning it off
to cover
the month’s rent.

A Pointy Spindle

A pointy spindle
poked the sky; it was
a particularly tall spindle
with a tendency
to dislike authority figures,
God included.

In accordance with Mr. Tartaroff’s wishes, every member of this baseball team shall perform a pirouette every time he rounds a base, then breakdance to the best of his ability upon crossing home plate. Our sister soccer team is exempt from performing these actions, as Mr. Tartaroff always preferred soccer to baseball if he had to choose between the two.

More Tambourine

Jimmy, Telly and Cliff stand in front of Jimmy’s open garage, stiff after hauling car parts around. “We need more tambourine,” Jimmy said with exasperation.

Telly looked at Jimmy quizzically. “We don’t have a tambourine.”

“What kind of a band doesn’t have a tambourine?”

“We’re not a band.” Telly snuffed out his cigarette with his boot. “We’ve been selling used car parts out of the back of your truck for six years.”

“Well, I’m tired of this arrangement. Can’t a guy form a band around here anymore? I have a perfectly good garage to practice in, we just need to exchange our used car parts for instruments and we’ll be set. I’m thinking rockabilly.”

Telly hates being the voice of reason. “This is just like the time you got the brilliant idea to start a petting zoo in your back yard. Remember how the coyote ate all the rabbits and you shot Cliff in the arm when you tried to kill it?”

“This is not just like that.” Jimmy sincerely believes what he’s saying. “The only weapon I’ll need this time is my axe for jamming in our rockabilly band. Come on, let’s do it.”

“Not this time, Jimmy. Fool me twice, shame on you. Fool me three times, shame on me.”

“I’m with Telly on this one,” says Cliff.

“Shut up, Cliff,” Jimmy and Telly exclaim in unison.

Leave It to a Lemur

Leave it to a lemur
to freeload in your mud bath
and skip out without paying the bill.

I’m tired of these lemurs
sneaking onto my property
and using the facilities
that I worked so hard
to put together.

Maybe if they pitched in
a few bucks here or there,
I wouldn’t be in such a bad mood
every time this happens.

I can’t wait until the circus
pulls out of town
and takes away these damn primates.
It’d better be soon, before these lemurs
get too comfortable around here.

I’d kick them or throw something
at them, but I already told my guru
that I’ve committed to non-violence.

Equally Afraid

I’m always on the defensive
because I’m afraid.
Afraid of what, I never know.
I’m just equally afraid of everything.

No, wait, that’s a copout.

I’m definitely more afraid
of certain things than others,
like cherry fruit pies
as opposed to swarms of bees.

I suppose I’m also
less afraid of the chicken dance
than I am of fuzzy teddy bears,
and lime wedges definitely irk me less
than jumbo coffee mugs.

But really, outside of those things,
I can pretty much say
I’m equally afraid of everything else.

Pass the Broccoli

“This town doesn’t have any eggplant! I’m seriously considering leaving. Everybody here’s been suckered in by the big broccoli lobby, with all their damn grant money and infrastructure improvements. What’s the point of new roads, rapid transit and a new high school if you’re giving up your right to eat eggplant, squash, cucumbers, anything that’s not this god-forsaken broccoli menace? Big broccoli has ruined our town. Let’s go, you guys.”

Geraldo’s plea has fallen on deaf ears. Everybody around the table does their best to avoid eye contact.

“Who’s coming with me?” Still no eye contact. “Anyone? All right, fine, you cowards. Can’t someone at least call my bluff? Jesus Christ, fine, I’m not leaving. I just really want some goddamn eggplant.” Geraldo heaves a long and heavy sigh. “Pass the broccoli, would ya?”