Category: writing


Under staves that had punished her for nights

the buried worm evolved a crooked slide

staggered with indentations and crannies

that peered into solemn chambers undrained

and floundering with rancid fish-like forms

gulping and thrashing, gabbling morbid noise

Immersing her in former dark patterns

where a gulping black turtle’s maw engorged

clumsy ragged shards of unmoored captives.

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Why did she neglect to write the poem

about the poem that bored her sister?

The same poem that contained few words

but had enough to drone a dull ache

into her best friend’s frigid head.

The poem that referenced another poem

forgotten and refused by her mother

and a woman who ignored poems when

given any opportunity.

The poem that condensed a short poem

and elongated a briefer one

that discussed an eclogue and an ode

and depicted a bitter argument about

boredom.

She skipped it all instead and in its stead

wrote another treatise on monotony and bread.

A dimly lit Taco Bell.

GERALD

What kind of Christmas tacos do you have?

 

CLERK

Christmas what?

 

GERALD

You know, pine tree pollo, eggnog asada? What flavors?

 

CLERK
I’m gonna barf.

(runs off)

 

GERALD
Bastards! I know a war on Christmas when I see one!

 

CURTAIN

A dimly lit Taco Bell.

ALEX
Wrapped in a thick flour shell it includes ground beef and sour cream.

 

CLERK

What’s your order?

 

ALEX

Yes, in the form of a question.

 

CLERK
Are you okay, homes?

 

ALEX

Time’s up. We were looking for ‘What is a chalupa?’

 

CLERK
I’m getting security.

A dimly lit Taco Bell.

 

KETTLEBAUM

You seen any suspicious tacos ‘round here?

LISETTE
We don’t serve no other kind.

KETTLEBAUM
(flashes photo)

I’m looking for a special loser.

LISETTE
(gasps)

Felipe! I ain’t seen that taco since the Quincy riots. Tell me he’s okay!

KETTLEBAUM

None of us is okay, lady. None of us.

CURTAIN

 

margarita who She was the woman who drank margaritas. Whether it was mid-morning or early afternoon or that dreary, gray hour sometime just before dinnertime in late September, she could be found with a frosty margarita in hand.

She didn’t let anyone get to her when it came to the recurrent margarita commentary. The sardonic comments from those who would appoint themselves the margarita police. The risk of margarita-shaming was just part of the hand you were dealt when you were the woman who drank margaritas.

Continued: https://proof.media/the-woman-who-drank-margaritas

The Dornstadt home. A storm rages outside.

HELGA

You have brought the chicken cupcakes?

 

HORST

Why would I bring cupcakes to a chicken?

 

HELGA

No, the chicken-flavored cupcakes, numb brain.

 

HORST

Oh, they were sold out.

 

HELGA
Always. Always they are sold out.

 

CURTAIN

The Punk Pumpkin was the angriest pumpkin in the entire patch. He was constantly making efforts to cause mayhem and disruption, ruining the peaceful and otherwise sedate lives of the general run of pumpkins in the patch.  Continued: https://bit.ly/2EeQdne

Punk Pumpkin

Therese throws down a large steak knife.

 

THERESE

(tearful)

Why do you stare at me so, Alphonse?

 

ALPHONSE

It’s just as my father always said.

 

THERESE

Machine wash warm?

 

ALPHONSE
Never love a pumpkin hater.

 

Alphonse takes his pumpkin away.

 

CURTAIN

Lisette plays with a cracked baby doll.

NANNY

(sternly)

I have bad news, Lisette.

 

LISETTE
Is it about my dead hamster?

NANNY

(tauntingly)

I will no longer ready you those Pippi Longstocking tales.

LISETTE
(stares out the window)

It is all coming true.

 

CURTAIN