Inheriting the winds
of travel – to many arenas,
more than our fair share –
breathes legacies
into stagnant patches
of ordinary air.
The threat comes
from threading gusts
by the needle’s edge
just long enough
to get a proper bearing.
We will soar overseas
if our math is correct,
and don’t ask
what will happen
if it isn’t.
We have to bring with us
a time that smells like
the grand representation
of polychromatic measures
for any and all underachieving
squirrel mongers we’ve come
to know and love. Some things
are better left unexplained
by our grand cynics, and I’ll
need you to take the kids
for a walk before bedtime.
If you could scrape a few
dollars together to get
some ice cream, that would go
a long way toward pleasing
our benevolent overlords
(the Hendersons).
Effervescent nuptials
stream out of our mouths
like we’ve been meaning
to speak them for some time.
Only we will know that we’re
actually improvising these words
according to the way we’ve been trained
at the Royal Academy of the Surprising.
Is there anything else
that can prove how suited
we are for one another?
Perhaps our sexual chemistry
would be a subtle hint, but
we shouldn’t go flaunting that around
in front of our poor single friends.
Plot out a twisting path
through the garden, we’ll need
something creative for the scavenger hunt.
A rubber ducky with buckteeth
will be the ultimate prize (just think of
the looks on the searchers’ faces when we unveil it).
Six hours of sheer sleuthing bliss
will put a beautiful cap on the day,
followed by some stiff coffee and a video replay booth
for our individual enjoyment.
Who will be represented the most
on our blooper reel? I’m gunning for Mrs. Teasdale,
but we can never be too sure.
It’s laughable how many
times I’ve had to warn
our prospector friends
about the deaths of local canaries.
It seems like at least
three times a week
is the going rate around here,
and they still haven’t picked up the hint.
They just keep spelunking
into those mine shafts as though
they have nothing to lose.
Honestly, who values shiny rocks that much?
You’re going to lose your life
on the hunch that you could
strike it rich? I’d rather
take my chances in an electrical storm.
If you think bribing an official
with foodstuffs is something
you’d like to attempt,
I’ll have no part in it.
You know that greasing
the wheels of justice
can lead to a runaway
freight train, don’t you?
I brought the mayor
a basket of biscuits
one time, only to see his mouth
snarl up in a frown (he’s
allergic to buttermilk, turns out).
He has such a great voice.
I remember when I could hear him
practicing his craft in Juilliard’s
private studio space
like he owned the place
(and some day he just might).
He has a lovely raspy tone
with nasal notes reminiscent
of the greatest orators we’ve come
to adore through history.
No specific examples spring to mind,
which just goes to prove
that this is truly
a once-in-a-generation talent
we’re witnessing here.
WHARVED 