No Time For A Doubting Thomas

Getting out of bed in the morning, exercising 

the option on which foot slips first 

into the fuzzy fussiness of a day -- is a judgment 

call, recognition of responsibility 

to keeping up appearances, enforcement 

of law and order -- your subscription 

to the chaos of being a traveler 

along the continuum of fleshiness. 

     Whatever your aches, 

complaints need oxygenizing, a run 

off of the consignment you expedited over-

night by Lethe. San Jose, you see, 

by the dawn’s early light, won’t wait … 

apples worm on a tight schedule. 

Do you know how often I’ve heard 

a non-believer grouse about the monkees 

having to carry Liverpool’s freight 

free of charge? As if 

a day trip to Clarksville wasn’t enough 

of an imposition on the tympanic 

sympathies … 

How many atoms make an adam? 

  

It’s a start, knowing 

when everything comes up short, 

the bang without a big. Who why 

when what walks and quacks 

like a duck but 

has all the peculiarities of a black swan --

     that recognizable beak 

of a singularity, once in a zillion 

a-ha… 

so this is how the rumble begins. 

Mr. Robert’s brief liaison with Miss Childs 

produces a little peach of a daughter, 

a pretty woman of mystic body slams … 

roddy rosetta of reeds drifting 

to a mountainous decision of a choice --

ham and eggs, bangers  

and a mash of potatoes, paddy cakes … 

a nap before noon time … 

the seventh day wait … 

thou shalt not break. 

Ken e Bujold

Author's Note

every thing is something in word play, enjoy the unpacking

Reviews

[FGFRANKLIN]

I used to have a drink every morning first thing when I got out of bed and after awhile the drink was having me every morning first thing when I got out of bed and later on the drink was having another drink and I was going back to bed and I wasn't having that at all. That was the road to sobriety for me. You ever see that clip of John Lennon riding around with Bob Dylan in London? I thought I was Bob Dylan back then. Turns out I was just tangled up in blues and a bit more like Frank Zappa than Bob. I just wasn't as "sheik". This was an interesting read. Uh, Childs... someone made love to that woman? His heart must have been in his stomach. I hope he's on the road to recovery.

[Ken e Bujold]

love the review FG, its as train of thought as the poem

[FGFRANKLIN]

I think my train of thought jumped the rails quite awhile back. Me and Ozzy were on the same railroad. But I like the verbal conundrum as much as anyone. But then, I don't like anyone very much. The doctor hit me when I was born and that put me onto the idea that I wasn't welcome here. I don't think they they do that anymore.

[FGFRANKLIN]

"that they" My fingers type faster than my mind works these days.

[W. Barrett Munn]

This is spectacular in a Last Train to Liverpool kind of way. So many great lines to parse if even possible. The funometer has been turned to overdrive and the roller coaster is rocking.

[Ken e Bujold]

you get it. was a hell of a lot of fun to compose. almost got away from me though. started out as ache of complaint, then morphed into god's eye view of creation...then Mr Roberts Julia childs took it careening out into the distant galaxies