Junk-tures

[W.G.McLeod]

Oh cripes, I'm way behind! I'll try to catch up with everything.

Thanks to Claire, Sorella and Kevin!

April

That Makes Us Even

All dealt thirteen, we sort
and scan for the duce of clubs
to sit safe on first

round. I pass the queen
of spades as she’s royal
bitch without a run.

Two played, we clockwise
suits watching for who has got
the tricks to shoot for

the moon. I knew it
was you fanning that black bitch
I sent you. I hold

back my hearts until
one is broke then spade after
spade is lead to smoke

out the queen. You took
the lead and laid down all hearts
until the last hand.

She was presented
but trumped by the king I kept
back with no heart left.


(It might help to know the game of Hearts a bit.)

[Donner]

Oooh, Hearts was our game of choice during college! You brought back maddening memories of that nasty Queen of Spades - I knew it / was you fanning that black bitch / I sent you. I hold. No mercy was our motto. Seems it was your N's, as well. Heh. The title and last line hints of more than just a friendly card game.

Donner

[W.G.McLeod]

Donner - I don't know what happens to my clan when we play games (cards especially). We're normally such nice, helpful, friendly people until you stick bunch of cards in our hands and we become the most spiteful, horrible, vindictive bunch of cutthroats you'd never want to meet. But, I love to play!

Make-up #2

April 18th

April 18

‘Rescued? No, more like retired.’

Wolverine 235,
raced tracks in Florida until 2005.
Broke a hock bone and was sent on a drive,
Wolverine 235.

Oregon’s Wolverine,
was rehabbed three years in a rainier scene.
Fostered and preened for a permanent means,
Oregon’s Wolverine.

Wolfie, the greyhound chanter,
hymned and hyped himself a grater.
As sharp in his song as he was in his canter,
Wolfie, the greyhound chanter.

Hundred mile n’ hour couch potato,
Woof, will stretch for a track after his nap, maybe later,
to sniff what smells canine but looks nothing like his ego.
Hundred mile n’ hour couch potato.

[W.G.McLeod]

April 19 (Make-Up)

No Nudging

Even Muir agreed,
the Mountain is best perceived
from a distance. Clear
skied for sight a hundred sheer
feet from caves of ice
creaking fissures, could be far
enough. Rims tepid
crater lakes, build a epic
lahars sleepy roll
off the snoring Tacoma.

[prooftheory]

I had to go look at pictures of Mount Rainier after reading No Nudging. The title is suggestive.
"Hundred mile n'hour couch potato" is a great line.

[Mike Lane]

Well, I started with #1 It's No Sweat (nice title) and was glad I did. Some double meaning there (for me anyway) which I always like thinking about.

for April 11

We thought you’d never stop
spinning us into action with fervor
and a loaded walker.

Great.

A lot of goodness and future joy in developing these even further.

Keep going, you'll be glad you did.
Mike

[Steven]

Hi,


'No Nudging' was for me a bit like a warm breath of fresh mountain air, (apologies for the cliché), but it did return me to some of those Californian national parks that I remember strolling in a long time ago. I especially liked the last line, 'off the snoring Tacoma'.

[W.G.McLeod]

Hello Steven, Mike and prooftheory. Thanks for the reads. I'll come around with more fluffing soon.

Here's another make-up

April 20

For What It’s Worth

I thought the boys socks in the leftover
bath salt’s basket would be a harder sell
but were picked up quick. She did ask -
‘Are they very old,’ while giving them a squeeze.
‘I think he only wore them once or twice.’
I try not to think about it. ‘I’ll give you a buck
for the batch.’ The propane dryer with natural
gas conversion kit sat like a flea ridden dog
no one wanted to touch. I just want to break
even on the iced mocha and car gas
it took to get change from the bank.

[Chrysalis68]

I really loved all the food imagery in this poem "Persimmon MRI" in regards to the structures which show up on MRIs. MRIs do look a bit like Rorshachs to me... and I love the use of food to describe what you see in the scans. "Pineapple weaves and unweaves a honeycomb." and "Corn grits its teeth and bites." cracked me up. "A garden of star fruit, strawberries and brussel sprouts bloom." (like the lesion?).
The last few lines "A legion of garlic fingers reach in to grab me and I wonder what the lesions on Mom's liver look like." What ever the legion is, I like the image of the garlic startling the narrator almost to reality... but then again the word "liver" is also a food which brought it all together metaphorically for me. Hope that the Persimmon is healthy and well.

I've got catching up to do with fluffing and phrasing. Thanks Larry, Matt, Andrea345, Jon, Mari and Claire.

April 16 (Inspiration came at the help of a friend on Facebook)

Persimmon MRI


Like a noir pop quiz, I stare
at sets of scans some tech
took for free. The butt of
a broccoli bunch bursts
with rosette fireworks.
A blood shot orange looks
me up and down. Pineapple
weaves and unweaves a honeycomb.
A garden of star fruit, strawberries
and brussel sprouts bloom.
Corn grits its teeth and bites.
A pomegranate bubbles a figure
eight into an echinoderm.
A tomato kaleidoscopes
and an okra ameba swims by
while onion suctions its octopus toe.
A legion of garlic fingers reach in
to grab me and I wonder
what the lesions on Mom’s
liver look like.

[W.G.McLeod]

April 21 (Another Makeup)

5 Second Rule

For the dog’s crunchy tooth biscuit.
Not the floss in the 4X4 foot bathroom

For the baby binky on grandma’s white carpet.
Not the congressman whining for their allowances.

For the Good Humor bar the kid next door dropped
Not the dried out comedian razzing back the heckler.

For sorority girls gobbling up pizza buy the box load.
Not for the diva before, during or after rehab.

For split milk on the kitten’s velvet tongue.
Not stock dealers tatting quick lines to backers.

For the hotdog that fell off into the fire pit.
Not the burnout feeling around for another match.

[W.G.McLeod]

I still can't make up my mind which poem I want to use for a local and very modest poetry contest
(winner gets a plate of cookies and I am of course all about what goodies I can get)
So since I was short one poem this Sevens I decided to try one more. I've got 5 days to the deadline to enter so, what the heck.

Here one more use of the follow atrocious ten words (carry fall hold key quick reflect shade tear yield zone) and I can't believe I didn't think of this application sooner as it seems so obvious now.

April 22 (still a make-up)

Played-by-Played

The countdown comes quick
in the key. Our point man
is being triple manned
with their zone defense.
He alley oops a bank shot
and flops on floor for a foul call
but the ball yields to me.
I see the steel coming behind me,
reflected off the center’s safety
glasses. I fall back to tangle
in his forearms and bait out
a holding foul. Their fans chant
CARRY! but I bounce it out, fake it
under the shade of their forward’s
leggy gate and back to our point man.
We run and gun to the three point line.
As the shot clock taps down, he tears
their net off with a rocket rimshot.

[W.G.McLeod]

April 23 (Make-up and thanks to Howard for the title prompt)

Downspout Serenade

Wind twisted and willow whipped,
they trumpet a thumped house.
Terraced shingles dump buckets
of applause. Stuffed walnut cups
mute their torrent. Cracks leak
with spittle, still they shudder and
surge with the squall's urge to dapple.

[Jee Leong]

You have a knack for narrating action, whether it is a card game or a ball game. That knack is counterpoised by a deft feeling for repetitive forms, as in "Five Second Rule" and "Wolverine." Enjoyed.

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

April 23 (Make-up and thanks to Howard for the title prompt)

Downspout Serenade

Wind twisted and willow whipped,
they trumpet a thumped house.
Terraced shingles dump buckets
of applause. Stuffed walnut cups
mute their torrent. Cracks leak
with spittle, still they shudder and
surge with the squall's urge to dapple.

Good use of sound and image. Reminds me of Gerard Manley Hopkins' "The Windhover", thought not as metrically elaborate.

BrianIs AtYou

[Claire]

PLayed-by-Played has fun energy and uses the contest words naturally. I like the last line.

...he tears
their net off with a rocket rimshot

For What It's Worth--I'm so excited for yard sale season. It's so fun if you can handle the awkwardness!