2014 #208

just then a thunderous chorus
careened through nearly every manor chamber
and room including the make-believe
sex compartment and excluding
a lavatory cordoned for a guest
except the manor hosted no guest
and even odder, the thunderous

chorus was a fancy way to say
the phone rang but even odder
than that if anything can
possibly be odder
was the fact that before the thunderous
chorus came careening, telephones
did not exist; but there on the nightstand

a bright pink phone
appeared from out of nowhere
and rings and the pair sit up and stare
and the gentleman pretends
he isn’t afraid but he has to be
a little bit afraid but he answers
anyway and so then he asks who calls

and why and the voice on the other end
is the squawk of a hawk and informs him
hawks wish to have a word with him but he
says he is certain the hawk
on the other end had dialed a wrong
number and the hawk on the other end
says hawks never dial wrong numbers


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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