By the end of the journey,
we will have told
a million and one stories
about how old Grant Moon conquered
the people of the Moon
and other such exploits.
Oh, what a grand old time
it will have been.
Come to think of it,
we will want to have packed
some peanut butter sandwiches.
I will return having been embarrassed
because I forgot to pack them
even though I’d remembered
to make them.
Whatever means you have
to get the pigeon
on the wing
of the Eiffel Tower’s
little niece’s sweater’s shoulder,
please act appropriately and immediately.
You have to understand the pressure
we’re under here. I can’t bring myself
to breathe any deeper
than the treasure cabin
below my backseat
(by the antique coin collection
I hide in the wheel well).
How do you get that stuff?
You know, the stuff that oozes
from the drums of the insipid
self-forgetters. Am I speaking
your language? Please nod if you
can understand me. Okay, are you
able to hear me at all? Are you
even looking at me? Goodness,
we’re in quite the pickle here.
Well, just let me know if you
can acknowledge me in any way.
No sign at all, this is great.
All right, so just ignore me
and I’ll be on my way.
Hallowed is the hall
where the fork dropped
and twanged under
the cylindrical sponge
that the mixed media students
decided to put together
as an homage to bizarro Spongebob,
their lovable school mascot.
He was concocted as a way
to avoid copyright infringement
while also making an ironic statement
about how our schools have no funding.
Wherever the timpani comes from,
we must remember that importers
would kill to get their hands
on our instruments. Never
turn your back for one second,
and you must remember
that super heroes can be real
(if the price is right).
Bedlam is what they call
the chicken wing syndrome
that’s been going around
these parts these days
with these kids
and these chicken bones
in the back yards
of their collective courtyards,
sold into poverty by dogs
who simply refused
not to dig up holes
where the gardenias
should have been growing.
A missile
jabbed its fist
into the socket
of an asymmetrical
potato boat machine,
causing untold tiers
of military destruction
to squander our hard-
earned resources
on a global scale.
The price of iron
will increase
by about 34% tomorrow,
insiders have been warned.
WHARVED 