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Yesterday I wrote a poem called “second understanding,” thus:

second understanding

he understood her ONCE
she was not available
but not coy
not hard to get
(paradoxically it was hard to get that she was not being hard to get)

subsequently they meshed
loved
fought
yearned
cried
and
(both feeling misunderstood and both feeling dissatisfied)
separated

now they circle, wary noncombatants
and he realizes
if he could understand her a second time
if he could get her motives and heart’s desire
and the key to her easy-smile lockbox
they would be safe to shore
second understanding
to get her to really get her
to get her again
to get her again

together again

It was posted in my Notes in Facebook. My talented painter friend Rachelle commented favorably, and there was this exchange in the thread:

Me: Thank you so much, dear Rachelle! Wondering if and how to illustrate it. What do you think?
Rachelle: Ooo! Seriously? I’m honored you’d ask me. Give me a couple hours-I’m at work now, but I’ll give it my full attention this evening. Cool beans

True to her word, Rachelle later instant-messaged me. Our exchange is reprinted here with her kindly permission.

Rachelle: Here are my thoughts…
An image of a rubiks cube-
You figured out how to solve it once, but now.. you can only get one side solved. You could take it apart- but it will never work right after that. The joints will be loose and the colored stickers askew.
To solve it again takes an uncomfortable amount of effort but ultimately satisfying result-IF you can ever do it.

I dont know. Prob not helpful but thats the image I got. And burnt orange houndstooth check pattern/feel.
Other than that-I got nuthin

Me: That’s GOOD! I’ll try a sketch. Thanks!!

Rachelle: Really? I was cringing after i hit send lol

This shows two things about Rachelle. She is generous with time and help, and she doesn’t know her own strength. She and I belong to a Facebook arts group where we all create and share what we’re working on. She is unfailingly encouraging and kind in her comments. She’s also great about describing her own works in progress and what she goes through stage by stage from conception to completion.

I liked the idea of a Rubik’s Cube of Love, so close to perfect but impossibly far at the same time. Here’s what I ended up doing, with the thanks to Rachelle built in.

001

The creatures dress in rags and sheets
And go from door to door
To fill their duffel bags with treats
And leave their egg-toss spoor.

One day a year this feast of frights
Grips Creepy-Crawly Nation
Endorsed by moms and dads and mites
And a Dental Association.

Happy Halloween, folks!

001

I owe the first line to Henny Youngman–maybe. Not sure. I owe others to either/or/couldbe Mel Brooks, Shecky Greene, Myron Cohen, Shelly Berman, Foster Brooks, my brother Harold, my brother Brian, the playground at William C. Jack Elementary School, and who knows who else. I have no clue as to whether this has been done before, but I swear I have no prior knowledge that it has. At least one line is original with me, and I iambic-pentameterized and rhyme-schemed the whole thing, so sue me at your own risk. Sorry about the mild vulgarity. It’s my nature.

You Hear the One About the Sonnet? Rimed!

He hadn’t had a bite for weeks. I bit him.
You say there’s two holes in the ground? Well well.
That tree bark sure smells funny–must be shittim.
Spring sprung, fall fell, and summer? Hot as hell.

The chicken crossed the playground: other slide.
Milan suppository: innuendo.
Hey, Jekyll, you can run, but you can’t Hyde.
Take loud Viagra for diminuendo.

Hey, circumcise me–here’s a half-off coupon.
It’s black, white, red all over–sunburned zebra.
A shirt’s an awful thing to get your soup on.
My checkbook’s always balanced–it’s a Libra.

You stared and got run over? Them’s the brakes, deer.
A Bardic urinal instruction: Shakespeare.

Yesterday I wrote this, based on something that had just happened:

two dog day

we have now dixon the dog
and cookie the cat
and misty the mutant
who plays a cat on tv

six years ago there was a dog named bill
and i thought of him today
because i said to dixon “you are a good/pooch/dog”
exactly the way i used to say it to bill

and i got a chill and a fear that i had betrayed bill
because once i said it only to him
and i had a new pang of loss
but it quickly unpanged and warmed

because i wouldn’t have said “you are a good/pooch/dog”
if i didn’t miss bill
irreplaceable bill
with the waggy tail

and i have missed saying “you are a good/pooch/dog”
and it is good to say it again to a worthy dog
and the things i did with bill remain intact
and bill will always want me to have fun

It got a good reception on Facebook, but I felt there was more to be said, so today I did this:

001

The words to the triple acrostic:

The spirit of Good Dogs will serve us in need
Whenever we’re hurting or face a rough sea
Of heart they have given unfailingly

The theme of this spot-welded image and acrostic poem is that it’s a crying shame when evangelical parasites use deific archetypes to bleed believers dry. It is an old, old message, but it still needs to be told, based on what I saw on certain TV channels when I was working graveyard this year. I hope I have told it in a new, engaging way. I hope also that it is not viewed as a slam against any particular creed–just of the ghouls who use the faith of innocents to further their base ends.

The iambic-septameter double acrostic goes like this:

Decisions made by A will leave B’s dreams unrealized
Incentivizing dalliance so often proves unwise
Suspension of one’s disbelief seems currency for bliss
Propinquity of doom will shrink contentment to a wisp
Upending some unending preconceptions on a dare
Takes chutzpah and charisma and a messianic flair
Alliterative declarations guarantee a yea
Tumultuous extravaganzas untrue a parfait
Inside insane aquaria there’s no need to be koi
Osmundium earth’s rarest when it’s found in an arroyo
Unctilio if left unchecked defrauds the citizen
Sedition-sanctified denial scratches up the lens

002

001

Suppose you sustain a groin injury. Suggestion: STOP Sustaining it. Overrule it! Get in a tub full of hot water saturated with bubble bath powder. Talk your head off about your unreasonable dreams. Soak–and sure as Annie Oakley’s aim, Happiness will visit you. But That’s Not All! SOPH of One Tree Hill will magically arrive–then URSA from Superman II–then a package specified DROP SHIP, direct from the manufacturer–and finally, Bigfoot the YETI herself! (What–you thought she was a he?!) Four words properly aligned thus yield five words, 60% of which refer to beautiful females. For indeed, Ms. Yeti is beautiful. Prepare to die if you tell her she isn’t.

001

A doodle became a roselike flower. One of the leaves refused to be filled in. I pretty much sat back and watched as pretty much everything BUT the albino leaf got filled in. It ended up whimsy, with the punchline of a joke I heard fifty years ago as the last word, and not-whimsy, bringing up the issue of the genetic cards we get dealt.

pigmentlessness
oft afflicts
when the Trickster
interdicts
normalcy
with biobleach
chromosomal
underreach
did it choose to be albino?
it’s a hybrid: elephino.