Pluto says
Keep your hug

Pluto says
Dwarf Planet my ***

Pluto says
Sticks and Stones *******

Pluto says
I know what I am
I don’t care
For your “opinion”

Captured by the Kuiper Belt! Please.
Or one my favorites,
A cold rock!

You called me a trans-Neptunian object?
I have five moons!
An 11 year old girl tried to name me.
She won £5 but I’ve had many names.
I am fond of Hiro.
But I’ve also liked Minerva.
I am hardly a minor planet.

In 2006 they tried to make a verb out of me
To "pluto" is to "demote or devalue someone or something.”
*******!
So passive aggressive and insulting.

I am not carrying that around with me
My orbit is 248 years.
At a 17 degree angle thank you very much
To pay my respects to that egomaniac Sun.
Why would I care what you think?
Perhaps I am envied because I am so far away.
I don’t think that I am far away at all.
It’s relative, no?
Yes, I am removed
from that Versailles situation over there
and all that *******.
That horrible planet
You know the one that I mean.
The one that’s crawling with “things”
They’re not even you.
Disgusting.

I am awash with molten ices and
I even sport a plasma tail.
I spin in nitrogen gases
On my own path
Alone
With my FIVE moons!
Just us!

They claim that there are other
Dwarf Planets here and there
And even go so far as to suggest
That I am the puniest amongst them
But with my five and five more still
That’s 10 to 8
And you already know what I can do.

Toothless and Useless
Were not the only ones
There was also Ruthless
But we call her Ruth

Toothless and Useless
Happen to be very old
Toothless a bit ornery
And Useless
Well one understands
That she never was what one would call
Helpful

One can never know when they are born
Or even on the block
face to face
What deal you have struck to be sure
Only time will tell
And some sweetening if one must

Toothless has been with us forever it seems
She is obstinate and mercurial
She doesn’t care what you say
She cannot be persuaded
Not even with a slap
I have asked that she be sold
But they say that I am unkind and did not know her in her younger fetching days

Fetching? Look at her.
Her lips fold in upon themselves
Her skin slack and oily
Her eyes yellow
We had spectacles made for her
For what reason I do not know
What I do know is that she cannot hurt me

When I was young she had a reputation for snapping at the children
Even an adult or two
A shriek would fly out of a linen cupboard or behind a bedroom door.
She would wipe her lips after the bite

We didn’t remove her teeth
They fell out on their own
But it didn’t seem to stop her
Not with a whip or after sitting in the dark, cold hole
She is ours until she dies

Useless is as ancient as the earth under her crooked feet
She cannot sew
Nor cook
Nor clean
Nor breed
Again I ask
For an explanation
But I know we cannot sell her
She is as part of us
Like blood and bones

If it were up to me they would both be dead and gone
But Ruth has an eye on me
She stands in the kitchen in quiet innocence
She throws about seeds with a serene smile
She knows that I will alas do nothing
But attempt to avoid a bite or ask a question to a curious face that has no answer.
They are safe and I am off to Boston.

I’d have liked to have heard
those tinkling bells
through the ether
while at the kitchen sink
behind me
from another room
As I have before

I wish that you would haunt me,
That I would see the motion of a darkened blur
out of the corner of my eye
Or hear your feet upon the hallway floor boards

I remember when as of late
I would pass by and you’d reach out
to stretch or say don’t go
I’d hold your hand and say
I’m coming right back

Now I look at my bed to find you
I touch the blankets and the other tumbled bedclothes
Here and Here
But you’re gone
Just sleek emptiness

I remember this well from before
Of standing in dark closets
breathing in and out
stale papers and linen over-crisp
the scent of solitude and
Memory
Of what never happened and never will.

Where are you?
I would cry how is there no trace left?
No butterfly a-lights or pennies appear on sidewalks that I roam
No hummingbird flitters before me to dash away
No breeze rustles through
the palm tree fronds
as if to say
hello, I am here always

You’re not in the bathroom or in a chair
I can’t hear you cry for me in the dark
Or touch my face at two a.m.
I hope that you still love me
I hope I never hurt you and that’s why you’re
Gone.

For the first time
I dislike the days growing longer
I wait impatiently for darkness
To descend upon me
In the soft sweet night
Now I wait
I look out the window
But it’s not here yet
Where is it? Why must I wait?
This is taking forever
I’m impatient and cross
I’ve had enough of
This light

An ad in the LA Times
Pictured a jewelry store in Beverly Hills
Somewhere off Wilshire
A golden band modeled after an Egyptian original
Mother wanted it and so we went
We sat on tuffets of crushed velvet and
She bought it
replacing her wedding band
Which I never did find.
It was pretty but
what other significance this meant
regarding her husband she did not tell

She was struck walking on an off-ramp
on the 10.
Heading east?
How did she get there?
I asked her in the hospital
On the gurney she shook her head
And said she didn’t know.
That’s Alzheimer’s for you.
The ring is gone.

Father took his off well before she passed
and left it on the top of his dresser.

What if the town of Mayberry wasn’t
Exactly “white”?
Some of it would be of course
But what if most was “not quite?”
And whom?
They all look the same.
The same arms.
The same hands.
Creamy, milky blanched and not exactly pink even in soapy dishwater.

It does explain why there aren’t really any children.
That would give one away
That tawny skin
That curious hair and inky eyes

Aunt Bea, her nose is a little wide perhaps and yet...
Well Sheriff Andy sure can sing and his hair has just the slightest suggestion of a wave.
Otis’s lips are full and plump.
His face is round not square.
He is the most unassuming and
gentlemanly of criminals.
He locks himself up at night when it’s called for.
Sshhh
Is this why everyone is so frozen?
Not one foot put wrong even
in a solemn country way?

The secret getting out?
People wouldn’t understand.
And they’re out there far off by a stream
There could be trouble
And who’s who?
And who’s what?

We sit and watch the glow of quiet spectacle.
The pantomime of the solicitude.
The church raffle.
The apple pie.
The charade where no one knows the answer
If you were uninitiated maybe you would never know.
Imagine the stillness.

Now Opie you stay out of the sun!
But Pa!
I mean it. Now go do as you’re told and get ready for supper.
Oh alright.

They sit quietly around the table
Drinking iced tea and smiling
Nothing’s moving.
You sure know how make a fine piece of
Pie Aunt Bea!
Oh Andy!
No elbows on the table.
Why yes Sir.
Why no Ma’am.

Look, my hair is blond
And my eyes are a funny golden brown
I have a lot of freckles and when it rains
my hair does not know what to do
I wear it in a long braid down my back, tight
Someday I’ll meet a nice blond man and he’ll take me away from here.
I’ll stay out of the sun most days and our children
will be perfect.

Hello? (Hands waving to no one)
Hey!
I’m back!
I got a little delayed (pointing at my watch that I don’t wear)
I know it’s been awhile
I got here as fast as I could
There was no one at the airport

Hello?
It’s me!
You would not believe what happened!
I mean really!
Have I got a tale to tell!


Hello!
Hi everybody!
Hello?
I just got back. I gotta lay down.

So what’s everybody doing?