Act I

Slowly awareness returns,  eyes flickering open.
Where am I?
What has happened?

"Doctor, the patient is waking."

Who was that?
What is this? I can't move my arms?
Panic rising....

"Doctor, he's stirring......"

Eyes opening wide, taking in the sterile environment.
The shadowy face leaning over me....

Then,
looking down,
I see...........

"Unholy Hell, WHY am I wearing a CHICKEN Suit???
with AZZLESS chaps???"

Collapsing back onto this white starched bed,
Slowly bits of memory stitch themselves together....
Remembering vaguely walking by the transvestite bar....



Act II

"So, dude, I was walking by this transvestite bar the other night.  And next thing you know I'm waking up in a hospital."

"No, now listen, I woke up wearing a chicken suit, you know bright yellow fluffy feathers, orange beak, red comb.  And, you will NOT believe this.  I was wearing a pair of Azzless Chaps!"

"I know!  Memories a bit foggy yet.  Can't understand how that happened.  I was on my way to see my girlfriend.......  Where this chicken suit came from, I haven't figured out yet.  Man, I'm glad my mom didn't see me in those Azzless Chaps!  She doesn't know I have that tattoo of Marilyn Monroe on my ***."

"Wow, if only I could....................OH, Oh, oh nooooo............was that my dad in the audience??  ***! There was an audience!!"

"Dude, I have to go.  I'm not feeling very well."



Overheard as he wandered away, "Wow, what was dad doing in a transvestite bar..........?"



Act III



"John, do you know what I found in our son's hamper?  They were just stuffed in there.  There's a pair of pants, John, with the backside cut out.  Never seen anything like it, and something bright yellow and feathery, John.  No idea what it could be."

"John........John........Are you listening to me?"


Our friend, John, has gone three shades of green.  Finally, mustering some strength, he asks, "Helen, could that feather thing be....be.... a chicken suit?"

"Why, John, I think it is!  It's not even Halloween yet.  What is that boy thinking?  John, do you suppose that he will ever graduate from college and strike out on his own??"  Helen continues muttering as she walks away, John catching only intermittent words regarding the pants with the missing backside.

As we watch, John looks about, and nonchalantly pushes a pair of sparkling purple heels, and an interesting pair of lace lavendar underwear deeper under his lazy boy........



Act IV**



At the Transvestite Bar, aka A Lark for the Queens, we watch some of our friends sitting around the smoke filled room, enjoying the atmosphere, and having a few drinks.

"Harrietta, did u catch that performance the other night?  It was inspiring."

"That new guy sure put on a show, after we loosened him up a bit.", said Frank, adjusting his pearls, while touching up his lip gloss.  

"Wonder who he is, I wanted to ask him where he got that fantastic tat, Marilyn is my idol!"

The fellas sip their drinks, reminiscing.........

Suddenly, a flash of purple sequins attracts Frank's attention.

"John!, Come on over. We were just discussing that new guy in our recital last week!"

Our friend John, glides over on glittering purple heels, pulls up a chair and shifts his flowing gown so he can properly seat himself.

"Well, I don't think he was all that good fellas.  Glory, bring me a spritzer, will ya."  The discomfort in John's face, almost tragic.

As our fine troupe of men continue to sip their beverages, we glance over and see our Monroe tattooed actor, timidly glancing in the door......

As the fiery teardrop of evening
Bursts upon the horizon,
I weave my iron hammock,
All eyes glittering in
Ravenous anticipation.
I and the shadows collude darkly--
Awaiting your arrival.

Wending my way
Through fruited garden
In search of treasure
I take without pardon.

To land from aloft
On warm steamy goo
Tasting with delight
This joyous poo.

And once quite sated
I move on
To cooler climes
This garden spawned.

Glinting temptingly,
My steely dinner plate
Stretches limb
To limb.
And soon--
My bulbous stomach
Churns in delight--
It is you that will be
Stretched limb
From limb.

Buzzing about
Out of the Sun,
Feel the foreboding
Dampening my fun.

There's a vibe in the air
That makes me shiver.
Setting my hairs
all quite a-quiver.

For all the eye facets
sitting in my head,
I still miss the trap
set out dead ahead.

I can feel your approach--
A barely discernible thrumming
That agitates the threads of my
Handiwork.
My mandibles quiver
And drip
In excitement while
The winds soughs secretively
Through the evening,
Whispering you towards
My gullet.

Evasive maneuvers
They have no effect.
Tangled in this web,
"Oh, What the Heck!"

Wings rasping loudly
Trying to break free,
When suddenly I sense
What could only be...

My enemy most Arch
Evil eyes a-glitter
Racing down wires
Oh, how he skitters.
I laugh inwardly,
Hungrily,
As my supercilious stare
Condescends upon you.
Escape?
The very thought insults me.
Your frantic buzzes,
Imploringly urgent,
Evoke nothing from me.
Implausible and impossible,
Your continued survival is made
Increasingly improbable
As my constraints surround your
Thrashing wings.

How I struggle to be free
As you come quite near
Your fangs how they glitter
How plump is your rear.

Feeling the terror
deep in my being
Wings wrapped fast
In silken sheeting.

Quailing at the certainty
With which you approach.
And yet, a flicker of  hope
When shadows encroach.

An agitation of the wind,
A vibration less susurrous
Than that which the night
Should betray,
Causes me to freeze in
Apprehension
As my struggling supper
Loses even the dregs of my attention,
The faint glow of the night
Is changed--
More swiftly than the
Rasping of leather wings
On a midnight silence
r the warm, mammalian
Bite of all that the
Darkness contains--
To the ubiquitous blackness
Of nonexistence.


As luck would have it
My executioner has failed
To finish me off,
And so I must regale

My frenemies
with a delightful tale
Being saved by fate
In moonlight pale.

Now, if only I were able
To free myself from
This quite dreadful mess
Wound about me ***....

Bzzt.
My consciousness
Crushed to
Confused
How?
I can't feel my
I hear mumbling
Thunder
Nature's laugh
Irony.

Close your eyes.

Immerse yourself
in
the sensuous treasure
of
a rose.

Sweet scented
seduction.

Soft, fragile petal
grazing your cheek.

Find yourself
enamored
of cool
dew
that slipped
the trenches
of a nimbus cloud and
settled on this
speck of
earth-bound beauty
inspiring
procreative
urges.

I wander the catacombs
weary and alone.

In the infernal heat
I perspire.

A journey perpetuated
by an uncanny ability
to feel the
estuary
of
superstition
and
supernatural.

Lead to
the deeper mystery
of
reality versus perception

where

we question

Truth.

Dragon slain,
Vile creature,
Pillaging our home.

Family lying dead
Torn to ****** shreds
In the rubble of destruction.

Senseless slaughter,
Unreasoning winged monster,
Murdering and razing.

Vengeance has been mine.
Hunted down, to its bower,
Slain without mercy.

As it has shown none,
So have I.
Vengeance sought and found.

Exhaustion, grief, pain,
Now mine,
Tell me I have lived this horror.

But going on?
Inconceivable,
Grief unreliquished.

Sinking to my knees,
Praying to that God,
Begging final peace.

No answer given.
Only the quiet sound,
Of one spared.

Calling for help,
Beneath debris,
Safely sheltered.

Tis my own,
My child,
My reason.

Watching the colors go round, and round.
The bright yellow towels making a halo,
in the dryer window, time trudging slowly.

Facing west, watching the sun set,
Washers and dryers humming in my ears,
Always feeling awkward sitting here alone.

Waiting for the buzzers to split the loud silence,
So I can finish my laundry, folding, hanging, packing,
And getting the heck outta Dodge!

I hate doing laundry.

Seasons changing, autumn's coming.

The birds, I see them flocking,
Readying for the long migration.

The locusts, whirring, in the trees,
leaving behind their shells, to mark their passing.

Colors brewing in the leaves, yellows, reds, oranges,
Awaiting the cool nights to brighten them.

Leaves twirling down from the limbs,
Spinning, blowing on the breezes.

Snapping twigs, crunching leaves,
Scattering before bright boots kicking them.

Crunchy apples, warmed cider, chili on the stove.
These are the things I love of autumn.

I've been trying to be good.
Doing what I should.

Assessing the patients,
Listening to the cadence.

Typing up the charts,
Listening to the hearts.

Filing up the papers,
Avoiding potential capers.

Not running my mouth,
Or fleeing to the south.

And yet, here I am again,
Called in, actions to defend.

Don't they know,
It's how I run my show.

Patients always come first,
I'd just as soon the paper be cursed.

But, there's the crux,
Bottomline money always sux.

Now, for daring to care,
My sins I must bare.

Will I be fired, retired,
Or just jaded to the point of uninspired.

** Possible followup, pending results, of meeting with boss.

Riding a yo yo
is a difficult thing.

Holding on tight
Lest you go for a fling.

Going down
Watching the string.

Going up
Running like a mad thing.

Staying aboard
Is a mighty feat.

Up and down,
what a treat!

Sitting quietly in my room,
blankets up to my nose.
I look out the moonlit window
the shadows curling my toes.

Scratching softly against the panes,
a little imp, awaiting his time.
Seizing a moment to call his own.
Causing fright is his fell crime.

Stealing away my peace of mind,
dancing gleefully at my fear.
Chuckling softly, at his impish feats,
Spreading about his dastardly cheer.

All alone huddled in my bed,
clutching my flashlight close to me.
Eyes squinched tight shut
Ears perked listening, legs ready to flee.

Hearing him creeping, slinking,
Lurking, scratching, and giving a chuffle.
Frightened to look and unable to not,
caught by the light, he gives a wicked snuffle.

I give forth a shriek in fright,
and hide beneath my blankets.
Then that wretched imp, grinning with delight,
races onward, escaping, capering, mouth agaping

Lost in its awful glee, looking for more tiny tots.
Hoping to set their screams free.

Creeping in the cracks

Insidious winter chills

My summer-warmed bones.

Elevate.
Defy depression.

Flourish.
Defy oppression.

Expand.
Defy suppression.

Optomize.
Defy pessimism.

Levitate.
Defy gravity.

Shine.  
As only you can when at your best.

Bacterial
Viral
Misery.

Capturing
My
Soul and Spirit.

Bringing me down.
Down to the ground.

Invisible terror
wreaking havoc
on my body.

Spreading doom
and gloom.

So miserable
I wish I could die.
So unfortunate
as to be unable to.

Oh, the pressure,
the pounding,
the drainage,
the floundering.

Will it not go away,
So I may see yet another day,
Where the sun will shine
And I can feel fine.

I truly hate being
this Germ's
*****.

In the depths of night, long past midnight,
when shadows come out to play.

Spirits moan about the loss of their corporeal bodies,
sounding lost and hollow in their deprivation.

Nightmares with their heaving flanks,
ebony coats glistening, spread their dark visions.

And I, unable to find peace in the arms of sweet sleep,
lie with eyes open,
watching the haunted dance of shadows at the window.

Every dog I know
is honest too the core.

They work harder at pleasing
their humans than we do caring for them.

They love deeper
and show it with their beautiful soulful eyes.

And when peering over the edge of the bed,
they laugh at us having ***.

They fish for hugs and kisses,
and are patient beyond endurance.

They jump and leap,
and race for the door to take us on our walks.

They beg for treats,
do some tricks and beg for more.

They wash our faces,
and wag their tails to tell us how they love us.

There is nothing better than a canine friend.
to make our lives worthwhile.