2014 #305

History and Glossary
were literate and lucid
enough to read between lines
to understand the time for talking
about an abstract past was taking
a turn into a tedium
sculpted as a frosted

briar thicket so History
got to work setting up the projector
and while History found the best
wall space where Glossary
could learn by a trusty visual
aid about its recent past,
well around that voluptuous

moment, two sounds burst or maybe
not so much burst but at least of one
it could be said it bled, so between
bursting and bleeding, two sounds
entered the room and exposed
their intentions, their intentions
being to compete for Glossary’s

undivided attention
if not affection – well the sound
of the feminine vocal cords
or the humming coming from
within what Glossary guessed was
a buxom bosom and no element
Glossary could think of could have

any idea Glossary’s heart harbored
such a secret but sunshiny weakness
for a bosom that was buxom,
that sing-song sound shamelessly showed
a passion for the affection angle
and the other sound, a crackling
commotion outside, like trees

being broken like toothpicks
and the scratch of icicle branches
against the cottage, well, that sound
didn’t seem too interested
in beckoning Glossary
into the cottage’s kitchen
for a hands-on hot sauce lesson


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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