Archive for August, 2009

apparently, i’m twelve

something smells
and i can’t tell
if it’s just me
or this bakery
’cause onion frames
have scents the same
from their fresh-baked start
to my post-meal fart




21

08 2009

Maybe It’s Just A Phase

My onion bagel once was full
A wond’rous glowing sight
But since I started eating it
It’s just been losing light
I nibbled first around one edge
And much to my surprise
It turned into a gibbous ring
Before my very eyes
The more I ate the more it waned
Which was a true depressant
I soon found I had nothing left
Except a fresh baked crescent
Reluctantly I passed the final
Bite between my lips
Then spent the moonless night in tears
Mourning its eclipse




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20

08 2009

Flavor Saver

They say my beard’s a flavor saver,
Which is fine with me,
It catches fallen scraps of food,
For the world to see;
But I don’t care if people laugh,
Hardy har hee hee,
‘Cause I still taste my onion bagel,
Well past half past three.




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19

08 2009

extraction

the surgeon prepares his instruments

scalpel?
check (serrated)
forceps?
check (from the ice bucket)

fingers scrubbed, elbows pointed outward
he approaches his patient
and gets to work

such expert deft!
what practiced poise!
student viewers would surely stare
wide-eyed, wondering
at his untrembling hands
(if said students were actually here)

breath held
lip bitten
he removes the cat hair
from the cream cheese,
steps back from the table (kitchen)
and allows his onion bagel
to recuperate




18

08 2009

Falling off a bike

happens in a vacuum —
launching forward
through soundless space,
head then feet then helmet
then head then feet

limp body
looping like a bagel,
silent gasp trailing from
gaping mouth

float
float
float
then fall

sound returns
with a punch to the lungs,
a patch of angry gravel,
and a fresh-baked batch
of bloody onion bruises




17

08 2009

season premieres

deserve a darkened
room,
a comfortable chair,
and an audience that adheres
to a strict
no-talking policy;

the last of which
comes easier
(of course)
when onion bagels are served




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16

08 2009

old racist bagel

damn those dark and dirty wheats
they’re rotten to the core,
and damn those queer blueberry fruits
what’d they move here for?
damn likewise all the cinnamons
they’re lazy and they’re cheap,
those spineless eggs could damn themselves
if they weren’t such yellow sheep,
and damn those onions most of all
with their pungent ethnic smell,
there’s no place left for plains these days
— this bakery’s gone to hell




15

08 2009

’80s Bagel

Feathered onion bangs
Wrapped in a neon napkin
Beeper clipped to crust




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14

08 2009

Four

For four years now my bagel’s been the best I’ve ever had,
She’s nourished me through sick and health, through times both good and bad

Sometimes her skin gets toasty brown, but usually it’s pale,
It’s soft and smooth and appetizing, anything but stale

Her onions can be spicy, and they also can be sweet,
But any way you slice them, they’re the kind I like to eat

Our past four years have flown by faster than a toaster’s ding,
Still I can’t wait to get a taste of what our next ones bring




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13

08 2009

Tanka #2

It’s done nothing wrong
(except for smelling strongly)
But is that worth death?
Hunger pangs growl Barrabas!
Can I wash my knife of this?




12

08 2009