Two Short Poems by texxnorman
Posted: Monday, October 06, 2008
by Tex Norman
MIXED METAPHOR
He mixed his metaphors
like a bartender-
the words were Jamaican Rum-
the syntax was syrup-
the grammar was juice-
and the little plastic sword
that pierced a wedge of lime,
and the tiny red paper umbrella,
and the glass
and the slivers of ice
and the coaster
were punctuation marks-
some of it needed-
much of it unnecessary
and used for show.
All together
it was hard to swallow.
To The Bus Stop
I watch them walking. Clearly
they're together, they're a group.
Even from this distance I
can see that something isn't
right. To me they look like kids
forced to walk on mattresses.
As they get closer I can
see their bodies are confused.
One rising shoulder is
shocked that the left one has gone
south. Each elbow has a mind
of its own. Some feet step high,
and proud, and purposefully
as if they were supporting
a trumpet player in a
marching band. The other feet
are baffled, because the toes
are locked in this hot debate
and every ballot ends with a
tie. On each and every vote
the little piggy abstains.
One word passes through my mind.
From here they're easy to love
and difficult to care for.
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