Dumb Luck

by Roberta Curley

There is God
Aka ‘coincidence’ to some
There is blood family
There are ancillary helpers
Friends, strangers
There are beasts of magic
Dogs and cats

Loving bliss commingles
In this checkered mix
Luck perches in the wings,
Taking long naps, then zing!
It awakens bollixed up in its
Own marionette strings

 

Nature on Mute

New Yorkers are tough.

We need to be.

We’re battened down for battle.

Covid stalks our every gasp.

Suspect vapors penetrate NYC breezes.

In the film “Hiroshima,”

Charred faces and seared spirits reign.

Covid carries invisible armaments.

Silently marching forth,

The virus blitzes us.

It hammers sick and old,

Begs young and robust join the fold.

Nature’s gone berserk.

Alert the mothership…

Or head for the Catskills.

 

Spill the Beans

I always fantasized becoming a screen-queen.
My name is Francine McQueen which rhymes with
Corrine and Nadine.

I imagined legally changing my full name to:
Francine Corrine Nadine.
Ironic that they all rhyme with screen-queen.

I envisioned moving to tranquil Aberdeen and
Living in a thatched cottage with a lawn chockfull
Of everything green.

In my happy hovel, I’d hoped to hoard baggies
Of glassine — filled with multi-colored
Lentil beans. How keen!

Those undervalued beans would help comprise
My research team. I’m actually a quite mad
Scientist – and a drag queen.

My beans were too multitudinous for my
Ivory marble tureen, too precious for my
Undependable latrine

No clogging Aberdeen’s sewerage machines,
But an experiment: a novel mixture of lentils
And hot sauce – topped with a squirt of Listerine.

Some declare my concoction obscene, yet
Chefs tout its satiety value AND
It polishes one’s teeth clean!

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