Monday, March 01, 2010

I wrote this one yesterday at fiction workshop (remember, i also ran a marathon in the morning, so excuse any spelling or idea mistakes!)

(workshops directed by Mr Spurgeon Thompson)
The Lollipop

I am asleep. Deep, deeper, more sunken than any other nights.

My open eye is making the sheets,

snore by snore, body so exhausted

the eye works so slowly that I am left white

The carpet in the room stands up billowing dust

a boy appears behind and throws it out in the pool.

I get up stark naked, hands over jewels, and I see him, full.

“I have a lollipop to replace the carpet” he says

He is cute, I’m mad, reminiscence of Da Vinci’s quests.

“Can I tell you your secrets?” he asks

I say he would have no clue, no rhyme

Boy in fury starts unraveling this ball of yarn

“Hold the lollipop!” I start licking just to hear about

the day I last peed in my bed

how I made my father laugh when she died

the fastidious lollipop she gave me the night she passed away

Just as both my eyes tackle the sheets

he jumps off the window into the pool

to land flat on the carpet

as he departs I still hear him shout my secrets in the distance

“You cheated from my test and I got busted!”

“the bike you lent me is still in my dad’s garage!”

“your father was screwing my mother too”

“I am the only one you can trust”

I shall not trust him if he ever reappears.

The lollipop is nearly done, my eyes leap for the carpet in the pool.
I wrote this one yesterday at fiction workshop
(directed by Mr Spurgeon Thompson)

Thirteen ways of looking at a silver spoon

A silver spoon would dive in a soup bowl

and in reverse dive out loaded

soup would never do the same to its pot.

What hand would mystify

this ritual of prudence?


Fast moving hands over a table,

dishes flying,

salads uplifted and surrendered

I never gave my silver spoon to

though everyone else gave theirs in.


In times when nothingness was valued,

at wars and major disasters,

Would you have lent me your silver spoon

for a sip of the rain water on the roof?

Or would you bend it for the wish well?


a boy and his father

pee together for sanitation

in their backyard planted with silver spoons


a silver spoon was digging

deep-deep-deep until it reached its tail

and died


Death visited me one day

dude, I protracted my silver spoon

She saw her face in the silver cavity distorted

“why the silver one?” I heard as she was being absorbed


Absorbents, disinfectants, pesticides

petrified at the sight of silver spoons,

especially the classic or baroque

– email with an answer -


Some pusillanimity is likely

when fighting the knight of silver spoons at nights

Beware! He might cut you in circles


The cycle of life

decoded by the hunter of golden dreams

sadly a cipher again

embargoed by the secret society

of SI.SPO.


Venus would feed her children everything

everything with silver spoons

each child had her name on the hollow surface

-except the poor boy-


If you ask me why I bought a silver spoon

I would go about saying that

bending it defies pitiful shows with forks


Roll a silver spoon down Mount Everest

and blame me for the silvery avalanche

pinning you down as you observe


Admit it mother,

without your silver spoon dancing its tango

your father would be mine

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