Flight of Ideas

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Flight of Ideas Page 4

by Robert T. Jeschonek


  Grate Seizure’s Goat! Holy Mowgli!

  Heavens too Beverly! Land o’ Gopher!

  In a manner of timely, debt and debunktion

  Wood griddle the lamb, wood

  Spray from see to slimy see --

  And nobloody butt nobloody, Eye mean nobloody

  New any wey two stomp it.

  Quizzly, the word sprayed:

  Six and two-thirds minuets, that was awl,

  Owl the thyme they had beefour the awfool avalunch

  Turtled over there precipice willage and farts,

  Reaping havoc, crayon, and contusion --

  Apparelly, it was tine too take axiom.

  Infants after the emergentry was denounced,

  The membrances of the town cowsill meant

  Fore a spatial, improngtu meating,

  Disgusting plausible methods of shaving there homelamp.

  “Maybe a big damn?,” ingest Ted Stipple;

  “Why knot some projective tarpaulin?,” ratted Boyce Flippy;

  “Ore bester yet, nuclear missiles!,” intercepted Chloe Minded;

  Butt cleaner heads preveiled, blushing aside these imprastical

  Notions in flavor of a more sensible pram:

  An investigatorial snub-committee was annointed on the snot

  And four awl spastical porpoises designed to solder the proboscis

  (Witch maid awl the difference, of coral,

  Since the cowsill membranes all annointed themselves).

  Thanks two the fat, divisive oxen of these grate liters,

  Plaids and strategic were mapped oust,

  Fumes were allocated, and a fool-proof saloon

  Fore dealing with the dishwater was concocted

  Buy the tide that everythings was wiped out.

  (Poor everythingy!) (Ant the cowsill, two!)

  Swoon, the mayonnaise had flushed ogre the town,

  Wallowing up feels of craps, clovering hole bilkings

  And houselets, carrying off automotives

  Ant wurst of awl, (braise yoreselfs!) drowning

  Indecent, helmless townspeanuts

  Inn a fetal, deadlyish flump of poring whitelike mayo.

  Upper distraction filmed the land

  Around the tippling Mound St. Heliotrope --

  It was two lady!

  The avalunch had stunk!

  Munch latter, wen the ducks had settled,

  Wen the feud survivors began shifting threw the rumble,

  The reely truly actual flax and completely detales

  Beehive this devastately catapostrophe

  (The aforeminted harrowing avalunch, ovulously)

  Were unbirthed and documended:

  As usually, corporations and waisted youth were to blame.

  That raging flume of killer mayo

  Oribbonated from a stupendagle vastly

  Enormative clomp atopping Mouse St. Hepatitis,

  Premiumly taught two bee mere marshmallow

  Butt actuality a secretive waist dump

  Four Miracle Wimp mayo makers!

  Pig business stripes again!

  And the plunging avalunch itcellar

  Was startled buy a gangrene of salivating, drunken,

  Juicy delinquents, corrupted wiley punks

  Looking four kicks and cheese thrills

  Buy holding a brutal yodelling contest!

  How dared they?!?

  Kiddies have know receptacle fore human wife!

  Needles too say, the careless corpuscle and rootless pumps

  Got there junk deserts in court:

  The grass chamber, electric cherry,

  Lethal infection, and hang gliding, simultaneously

  And at the same time till depth dew them party.

  Ant as four the destimated volley,

  The unlumpy, ill-faded hillage and farts

  Tramped inn the pad of the onrashing avalunch,

  It is still vanquished, berried internally

  And always forever afghan

  Beneed those tongues and poundings of salad dressing.

  The governmeddle, thanklessly, did the only thing profitable:

  They airlifted a gigantical slice of bread (hole wheat)

  Onto the mayo-smothered plane,

  And estamplished a national monumental (and tourist detraction),

  A memorial and rewinder

  Of the terriballistic, traffic disastrous,

  The lawns of life, and the reely big mess.

  In fabric, ewe can still go their,

  Even moral, it is your pastriotic duty

  To visit and pay hostage

  At the densolate, silo, ominuts ruins of

  Pompayonnaise.

  Thee Endless

  *****

  Weight Four Me(at)

  Seen against the fruity

  Pageant of humanity,

  With awl its famous figures

  Sprouting like an orchard

  Of history, my life may seem

  Fairy insignificant,

  Even ludicrous.

  Butt -- and Eye repeat for those of ewe

  Who didn’t read it in my mined

  The furst time (sorry souls) (or lucky,

  descending on how you think about it)

  My life is impotent two meany otters,

  Two the average Joes and Janes that Eye

  Daily crumb in contract with.

  Four example: (this is sad butt troop)

  Eye play a very impotent park in the lives

  Of a number of towering, pushy bullseyes,

  Who, together with meany otters, enjoin

  Pulverizing (ouch!) me (yow!)

  i.e. smacking(!) smashing(!!), hitting with bald

  fists(!!!) or just pain verbal abuse

  e.g. crawling me names

  re wimp, weekling, mama’s buoy

  ore any number of choice epaulets.

  Yes, without me, these pour pushy bullseyes

  And meany otters wood have know one (ore two ore three)

  To split on, to beast up,

  To creep them happy and stuff there egos.

  They wood bee lossed soles, Eye no,

  cast adrift on the see of life

  like helpless, mewing babes. (Eye mussed wife a tear

  from my I, so touching is this ((sob))

  spastic vision.)

  Still, mulch as Eye loathe hurting

  in any wey these pour, unlucky bullseyes

  (and otters), Eye have found (two my grate surprise)

  (and dismaid) that there bruises are knot skin deep,

  sinking, instead, too the guts and bones,

  witch unluckily brake or squish, hurting ether wey.

  Sew --

  Eye took action:

  Eye gnu then only won man could help me,

  Only won man could save my squishy

  guts: I got a stamp, undressed

  an envelope, and send it two him:

  And in weaks (ore was it daze?) (hours?) (seconds?)

  (maybe their was a time warp and Eye got it ((gulp!))

  befour Eye send it!) (yikes!)

  retrieved the package,

  touching it respectfully like crowded jewels,

  reeding the label:

  Charles Atlas super guaranteed mussels

  in forty daze or yore monkey back

  weight program “it said.”

  I smiled and started write aweigh...

  Forty-nine daze later, I was pumped up

  with mitey mussels,

  shiny in the slum, ripping down my bawdy.

  Eye flexed them, flinging hefty papers

  awl the wey across the room(!),

  crushing loaves of bread flat(!!),

  smashing(!) a(!!) hole(!!!) threw an

  extra heavy duty Kleenex (not some bargain brand!),

  even lifting, in won mitey heave,

  a sneering feather pillow, wayed down with down,

  heretofore immovable.

 
Eye lurched outslide, reddy two tackle

  the bullseyes...

  Butt was snatched away, grubbed and towed

  into a truck befour Eye could strangle.

  Some won hit me and Eye went unconscience.

  When Eye awoke, Eye slaw him --

  Simone Filet, unscrupulous fish-cutter

  and fugitive from justice. He was a strange man,

  big eyes staring from the sides of his

  heavy, and a tongue that flapped up and down

  when he talked (what a site!).

  Now Eye half ewe!, “he sneered,

  flappy tongue flickering away.”

  What is yore plan, fiend?, “Eye shouted

  at the top of my lips.”

  Long Johny Slivers has fired me,

  i.e. terminated, laid-off, unemployed,

  Forcing me to turn too other

  sorces of cash. Seew Eye will begin a

  nude industry! Human veal four

  Pacific cannibal tribes! Ewe are the first!,

  “he laughed.”

  W-why meat?, “Eye asked, confused.”

  Beclause, “snapped Filet,” you half such plump,

  shiny mussels, perfect for a testy cutlet.

  Eye reeked in shock,

  two stumped to reply:

  My plan had backfired! Charleye Atlas had made me

  a morsel, a calf reddy four the butcher (ore the fish-

  cutter in this case).

  Eye was tide up and pitched in a dark bathroom

  with know widows or lights

  and only the flusher on the toilet two

  brake the silence (witch Eye ewesed two creep myshelf

  occupied, flushing two the tune of various songs:

  “Blue Moon,” “Moon Over Miami,” “When The Moon Comes

  Over The Mountains,” “Moonlight And Roses”).

  Weighting for an opportunistic to escape,

  Eye settled inn, fed only milk

  buy my kidnabbers.

  Then --

  Kaboom! A brainstork! (caw caw)

  Eye new how too escrape,

  Eye new how two free myshelf

  From this predicamental! (at lashed!)

  Eye wood knot bee sealy up in this

  dark john, fattened and pale

  and changing intwo milk-fed veal,

  knot four long! (ore short, for that matter)

  Hastily, I scribbly a note on toilet paper,

  (Help! Eye am locked inn a bathroom!

  Slave me!), sealed it in an empty

  shampoo bottle -- and flushed!

  Eye slat back and weighted...

  Suddenly, after too years,

  A special SWAT team burst into the room,

  Simone Filet in tow!

  Say, “won said, pointy in my director,”

  Who let this calf in hear?

  Oh, “mumbly Filet, sneering,”

  That’s just veal. Dew you officers like cutlets?

  Outraged, Eye tried to speak,

  “Butt awl Eye could say was,” Moo...mooo.

  Looking in the mirror, I pancaked;

  Sore enough, Eye was a calf,

  Pale and slinky and reddy four cannibal cutlets!

  What wood Eye dew?, “Eye wondered, horrible,”

  What wood Eye dew?!?

  Then, Eye wake up.

  The mortal of the story is this: If we

  are what we eat,

  then why isn’t everybody food?

  Finnish

  *****

  Supermarket Follies

  Welcome to the Supermarket!

  Your friendly neighborhood that is --

  Bargains galore, huge selection,

  Cashiers courteous, deals unbeatable,

  Unbelievable, unpalatable, umbilical...

  Step! Right! Up!

  And now, in the center

  Aisle, may we direct your pocket

  Books to the blue light, red light, green light

  Night light special, the first a

  Traction...

  Canned Goods

  Just watch them for awhile,

  Pop out eyeballs and carefully run

  Them over that goggleplex vista,

  That holy cheap manument

  Complete with sacrament inside, a bonus what

  A bonus it is like a

  Lifetime is a bonus.

  Rows, stacks, columns, walls,

  Like a long thin house stuck right in the store,

  Or more a thousand midget homes, scale

  Model, a bean and mash neighborhood

  Laid can by can, food by food,

  Each clamped, labelled, priced, shined

  All different, all bright, all sealed and

  Locked stamped crushed plated

  For your protection,

  Contained, compressed, congealed

  Like teeny ground families

  Only no doors or windows.

  And you shy, you shrink,

  Hem, flagellate, flatulate,

  Dive behind your cart, because

  You KNOW!

  It’s TRUE!

  Inside is YOU!

  Produce

  Oh fruits and veggies,

  Glistening, sparkling, glittering,

  All polished and puckered and preened like

  Juicy fresh lips ready for plucking, but

  More--firm, rigid, obedient,

  A pulpy, leafy regiment trained for months

  On vines and stalks by

  White-smocked market sergeants, now

  In formation and if

  Reveille over the speakers they would

  All hop down and march.

  Such shine, such

  Color, such surely they must crisp and

  Snap and squirt disguise --

  Take us home!

  We will make you happy!

  Take us home!

  Like a crowd on the street, all

  Zip, difference, shimmer, skin,

  The suit crowd, the busy crowd,

  Light, right, tight, bright,

  But you know the sight --

  All wax, spray, rub, squirt,

  Glop, goo, grease, gunk

  Painted primped pimped and

  Perfect.

  And inside,

  You know...

  Inside is YOU!

  Quick! Cringe!

  Move!

  Meat Counter

  The hearty part, the beefy heart, husky, chewy man’s

  Mart -- Meet the Meat!

  Cut in slabs, shucked in cutlets,

  Carved in slices, hacked in patties,

  Ground, crushed, minced, spun

  In neat thick portions wound in

  Clear chrysalis.

  All red and plenty bloody, body red,

  Guts red, sink your teeth and snarl red

  Like game only hunters come

  With squeaky wheels and shopping lists--

  And sprawling in the long white cooler, gleaming

  Fleshy under incandescents, fit so

  Close in lines and rows there is no

  Beef, no pork chicken veal just

  One huge muscle, creature sleeping made of

  Bloody cool bundles and maybe if you take

  The right one it will

  Slither down the aisles.

  What an art, a work

  Of man, the sculptor of

  Sinew, and such a collage, a fresco

  Certain to awe, stun with lean plastic

  Symmetry--critics’ nodding

  Heads and whispers over the

  Soundproof screams in back.

  Yeah, you hear them,

  The strains of a work in progress,

  The chiseling of maestros in

  Living marble--

  But you recognize,

  You peg the voice...

  It’s YOU!

  Checkout

  And so the show ends,

  As all shows must, al
l

  Supermarkets, sales,

  Shoppers.

  You’ve been and done, you’ve come and gone,

  We hope you’ve been amazed, a

  stounded, and taking what you

  Know foot the bill, get your bags and

  Never return...

  But you will.

  You always return to the Supermarket.

  *****

  Somebody Loves You

  Buy this blouse this cookware this makeup this doll this jewelry

  (This love)

  And we will love you smiling waving laughing never letting you down

  (We love you.)

  Everything we have is perfect for Christmas birthdays graduations bar mitzvahs

  Easter retirements showers weddings vacations lazy Sundays lousy Mondays

  Treat yourself you’re worth it

  (Love is things.)

  Every item is made with husbands sisters sons daughters mothers fathers brothers cousins uncles aunts friends nephews nieces pastors babysitters bosses neighbors pets in mind

  (Our love is un

  conditional you can tell from our

  sunny cheekbones.)

  YOU MATTER TO US

  AND WE WANT YOU TO HAVE THE

  BEST

  like these steaks and chocolates and rings and

  WHY THE FUCK NOT?

  figurines and ornaments and sweatshirts and

  LOVE LOVE LOVE

  IT’S ONLY MONEY

  computers and cameras and hair extensions and

  YOU’LL PAY FOR IT ANYWAY

  FOR LOVE

  SO WHY NOT GET

  anti-aging complex and commemorative

  SOMETHING OUT OF IT

  one-of-a-kind

  YOU CAN CONTROL?

  And years from now we can look back on this night the two of us and laugh about

  the little joke I made on the

  screen

  while I was selling you the

  (Love)

  the limited edition thimble set

  one for every month

  and two for Christmas

  so darling

  so shiny.

  *****

  Why MTV Went to Commercial in the Middle of Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" During Live 8

  Expressionless

  the blonde follows my car from two

  inches

  behind while the withered

  insane creeps along the walk,

  baby dolls and mufflers in her shopping cart

 

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