The voices
whispering from the shadows
the voices
barely discernible
could be the gnomes from Nome Alaska
no penguins there
could be the blue people from Nome Alaska
freezing their scar covered wrists
instead of their butts
The voices
whispering louder
cause I can't hear worth a tinker's damn
deafer than a kid at a parade
picking up candy in front of
76 trombones
since I drove under that power line
in retrospect
should have never sought shelter there
especially in an electric storm
shocking
really, it was
that ever present buzz in my ears
silencing all that I should hear
but don't care if I miss
fascinated by the microwave
brother in arms
it talks to me
humming
buzzing
whirring
warming me through and through
by offering up yet another
meatloaf on a stick
what was once frozen
without ever being near Nome
nothing left but the stick
and one piece of meat that I missed gnawing off
like a husky in Nome losing a leg
due to the penguin shortage
had to eat his own
The voices
louder now
goading me
poking at me like that meatloaf stick
or the metal leg
of a pink flamingo
tipped over by a renegade stampede
of 76 trombones
The voices whisper to me
"Run for Mayor"
but who would vote for me
other than the cement brotherhood
blue people and the crew of the
yellow submarine
The voices whisper louder
so hard to ignore them that I
tinfoil my entire head to block the reception
but make a premium target
for that storm upon the horizon ...
"What in the Sam Hill is going on here?"
Lord thundering Jaysus
the brass band just grabbed the brass ring
on that merry go round of a twister
whirling them like uniformed frogs in a blender
but they will be back in another life time
re intarnated, by golly
whispering to me
"It wasn't the gnomes"
It was never the gnomes
Go down to City Hall
you'll be getting warmer there
like meatloaf
on a stick
Author notes
Do not remove this tag under penalty of some law that feels that it is important to keep this tag until the product is in your home, at which time you may remove the tag just prior to providing the product to a small child as a teething device, who should neither be reading poetry on this site or running for mayor, not necessarily in that order ...
Written October 19th, 2006
A contest entry
- Tempus Fugit by Long Road Home.
2007 points, ended May 29, 2007, 53 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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heh
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Your Worship or Highness or Hiney-ness or Whatever - I said I wouldn't have entered had I known results would be broadcast on New Year's Day - THEN - you suggested Valentine's and I thought "what the hell, enter another one" having no immediate date prospects for that date, given the eye patch and wheelchair issue ... and as for the FMOAS, it is one of the few really decadent delights that I can enjoy whle following the Atkins diet regime to keep myself looking buff enough for my political press conferences. Cheers.
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Now lookit how you've gone and made a whole-hearted liar of yourself. From the one side of your mouth you say "I wouldn't have entered if i'd known" then from the other side you're up there at the top of the list adding new entries...
You should be a politician.
I think I hear Nome calling.
Keep up the good work and stay away from the frozen meatloaf, it really warps your perspective.
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New Year's Day? Gosh, I wouldn't have entered if I had known that - I'll be in Nome for the Polar Bear Swim and penguin hunt ...
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Well I am pleased to report that you only broke about 72% of the rules which currently puts you in the lead for something tho I don't ezzackly know what. See you when the contest ends on New Years day
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