Poem – Galas We Missed (2006)

Galas We Missed

 

Helen + Brice?

                     Very nice!

But I am missing

                       a slice

So if you want

                     me there

Invite me

                     Twice

 

R.R.                                             2006

Poem – All Day (1978)

All Day

 

So this is reality too, come in

and now you’re here, all swept

up for you the floor shiny

and our wonderful pal, the

antelope clatters its little hooves

on the floor to eat from your

hand, all the pictures

you love on the walls and

your favorite books read

themselves aloud, and you

can leave if you want to, just

turn the page or have the kids

come over for cake, little Louie

from downstairs, he likes you

so much he brings his friends

too, the twelve year old girl,

She loves it here we give her

shiny hair and crackling

petticoats. It’s always

just after school and

just before supper. The

flower in the flowerpot smiles

all day in the sunshine

and waves its little

leaves when you come home. Such

a bright yellow floor and

such a big cozy bed

It says Hey Get Up or

You’ve got a temperature or

Stay here with me

let’s watch TV all day.

Sometimes there’s a moon

when we’re alone but

like always the grinning

kind that hangs from a

thin wire. Oh yeah, the

stars have five neat points

The coffee pot giggles and

the dishes wash themselves with

their little rubber gloves

squeaking and laughing.

You have that effect on things

and even the bathroom,

so often left out of things,

is happy, when you’re

home.

 

Oct 25

1978 RR

Poem – To an Ironing Board (2005)

To an Ironing Board

                 Nailed to a Bedroom Door

 

There are welts across the arses

Of the British upper classes

Then in France it launched a craze

Benamed “La Maladie Anglaise.”

 

All may crave this painful bliss: though

It helps to be aristo;

“Oh please, Sir Dukie, Duke, please,

Smack me just like the Marquise!”

 

Back and forth across the Channel

Pong and Ping the darling paddle

Raised her red retorts of pleasure

Forth and back in equal measure.

 

The wealthy Duke of Lauderdale

Does enjoy an unforced wail

From aproned maids, with wet red eyes

Who are ladies in disguise.

 

Our sublime poet of rack and wheel

Was clapt into the dread Bastille

Deprived of Light and Day

By a Lettre de Cachet

 

So, well-born and standing tall

Leaves a greater way to fall.

Duke and Marquesses fall down on

Knights, Viscounts, and Baron.

 

This little doggerel of decay, Brings us to the present Day

In this world of Bush the younger………. Hunger

 

 

                                             RR 2005