Bat

Five years and
One early morning ago
I awoke in distress
As a scratching plagued
The inside of my wall.
To me it seemed
That a mouse or more
Had made its home there.

My parents must know! I thought
As I crept to their room.
Dad was the only one to get up
And bravely investigate my mystery.

We lumbered back to my room
And flicked on the lights...

IT'S A BAT!!!

A shrieking comet of brown fur
R o c k e t e d
Counterclockwise above us, angry
At the addition of light to his "cave"

Now we were wide awake!
No time to think...
Grab a broom, grab a stick
Grab anything! Just don't
Let it upstairs!

I found the proper armaments
And stood in the stairway
Like a pajama clad centurion, or
The star hitter of broom-ball,
Ready for the bat to come my way,
But it was Dad who got him,
Oh he swung with exactitude,
With such unintentional grace and caught
The bat midair and
Hurled him into my bookshelves.

Delicately, Dad blinded the creature with a blanket,
Wrapped him snugly within and took him to the garage.

The sun was rising as we set him loose, and
We watched him fly away,
A little black star crawling across the morning sky.

And to this day, the mystery of his entry still remains unsolved.
The garage door had been left open, but the door
To the house was not ajar. Perhaps its childish to think,
But maybe he let himself in...

Ghost In The Mall Scene

I see a spirit rising over fake luminescent evergreens.
Through rags of rough silver hair, he hangs from the ceiling;
His undead magic destroyed by a mortal leash.
He seems so docile, so out of place,
Hanging and priced and plastic,
Like a bastion of Halloween towering over a plot of early Christmas trees,
Harvested far too soon, and set out before the wares of his holiday.

I wonder what this ghost of consumerism
Must think as his unholy day is
Smothered by the holiest. I listen close, his mouth is agape,
As if in the midst of a scream, or a cry, or a whip of disgusted sound,
But nothing comes. He wants to reply, but his voice is
Lost in the silent rustle of a windless plastic forest,
And the footsteps of sale hungry housewives.
Beasts in their own right.

Jaw

I listen to it and shudder
In tenebrous gooseflesh
As his jaw grinds itself
Apart. Oh how his molars
Screech in that sadistic ceremony!
He doesn't feel it dreaming,
But those poor torn tusks will
Tell of torture at daybreak.

Coin Toss

So to you I'll toss a coin.
A coin for you and me.
It's only a simple litte flip,
A call of heads or tails.
Believe me we'll like
The outcome!
Just call it, I'll tell you
What you'll et when it lands.

...(cling)...

HEADS!

Your prize...?

Me, and all my
Charming
Imperfections.

There's enough of those to keep me
Anchored
To the bottom here. I'm not going
Anywhere,

Trust me.

Ah! It seems your boots are
Just as heavy.

Don't fret,
We'll be alright,
Just tighten your bootstraps,

We'll be fine,
Down here,
Together...

In our blinding coin-toss love.

17

And as the new year is born, all wrapped in warmth
We're on my porch, ears red from the cold, amongst
A jubilant war of pots and pans afire,
We four laugh and chant, but I am mesmerized
by her black pea coat. When I was seventeen

She was something I could only dream of,
A swirl of rose in her nose and cheeks,
A perfect form I didn't wholly know, but
It was a smile and sway that drew me to a
Plan executed, when I was seventeen.

So as the year took another hour of
Our lives, this wondrous girl had to leave for home,
But I shan't let her rose swirl escape me
Without knowing the truth, my subtle truth.
In my arms, she too is seventeen,

But I can't go forward, no, not with him there,
My friend so fragile, someone like him would die
If he knew... Bah! There is no time for thinking!
I have to act now! I want her to know it.
I dash out, snowblind, to the passenger door,

And plant love on her cheek. We were seventeen.