WHARVED

Like a Turtle

Devin takes a sip of hot coffee that still needs to be blown on. “I’ve just been out of it lately, can’t describe it as much more than that. I haven’t been social, and opportunities for social interaction are just too much to bear.” He looks forlornly at the coffee cup.

Marie offers her obligatory call to action. “Have you at least made an effort to get out and see people?” She wants to understand the situation, it’s never been hard for her to scrap the shackles of introversion.

“I’ve gotten as far as considering the possibility, but when it enters the realm of action, I withdraw.” He takes another sip.

“You sound like a turtle.”

“I feel like one these days. A shell would be helpful in a lot of situations.” He begins imagining a human with a turtle shell for a convenient anytime hiding place. In restaurants, in the park, on public transit, a safe haven would always be within reach. “Yeah, a human turtle.”

“Sorry, what? You lost me.”

Southpaw

Unless you want
to lose your hand,
I wouldn’t venture
over to that table saw
any time soon.
It’s obviously your choice,
but don’t come
crying to me
when all your friends
start calling you
lefty and southpaw
(on account of
your northpaw being gone).

The Gist of It

A mustachioed man with a boot for a leg kicked his way over to me and said, “Son, you’re never gonna be paid what you’re worth, so you gotta make amends with that fact and live your life to the fullest.” I’d never before met this gentleman, so his insight into my employment status intrigued me.

“What, stop worrying so much about money?” I furrowed my brow.

“That’s the gist of it, kid. You got a passion? I suggest you focus on that, for the sake of your sanity.”

A Brief Flicker

I leapt at the chance
to have my name engraved
on my very own garbage can.
Now when my trash
is picked up, it will have
an identity and a purpose.

Sure, it will just end up
in a landfill, but
an observant trash collector
will get the chance
to concoct a story
surrounding that refuse,
giving it a brief flicker
of immortality.

A Bit of a Challenge

We all needn’t shatter our mouths
on such unworkable jawbreakers,
there’s no cause for that activity.
I’m afraid of losing my teeth,
so what we shall do is clear.

We’ll scrap all that candy
and get some beef jerky,
as we still want a bit of a challenge.

Before We Get Bored

We launched the remnants
of a poplar tree
through the air
and watched it come down
with a smack.

There’s something so satisfying
about flinging logs
in random directions
and watching passers-by
scratch their heads in amusement.

Next time we’ll make
papier mâché planes
and float them over the lake
until they fall
and get soaked through,
an exercise that will last
maybe thirty seconds
before we get bored
and break out the beers.

The Previous Tenant

The previous tenant
didn’t paint the walls
before leaving.

You can see the outlines
of picture frames, hung
before the paint
had a chance
to dry properly.

This person is always
hurrying here and there,
and can presently be found
lunging at trees in the park,
playing a game of chicken
they can never win.