trying to get back to the Main Thing (again : continued)

“If you could play imperfect,”
Sonny Youngblood the local skunk
in his opioid tone slipped his
tongue to intone just when Robert
the robin-headed robot
produced his yellow harmonica
and was about to proceed,
“like one bum note per hundred
– no make that two hundred – no….”

“How about one sour note
for every one hundred and twenty?”

“Sour? Hm, not sour
really, or not too sour.”

“Okay now we’re talking sour
settings and sour settings are
more specific than bum so if
you want zero sour…
but a specific would help since
bum is broad – should I show you the panels
for bum, well we could not enjoy this
beautiful basin birds now and then bathe in
and which the rains just yesterday freshened.”

“Most minimally
sour then, I guess.”

“Most minimally sour it is.”
And Robert the robin-headed robot
put the yellow harmonica
to his scarlet plastic lips
and began to paint the day with
a slightly imperfect purple cascade.


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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