There's a Polar Bear
In our Frigidaire--
He likes it 'cause it's cold in there.
With his seat in the meat
And his face in the fish
And his big hairy paws
In the buttery dish,
He's nibbling the noodles,
He's munching the rice,
He's slurping the soda,
He's licking the ice.
And he lets out a roar
If you open the door.
And it gives me a scare
To know he's in there--
That Polary Bear
In our Fridgitydaire.

Ready for sleep and lying in my bed..
I heard this music spinning 'round
in my head..
I wasn't dreaming, I knew it was there,
and it was coming from my Frigidaire..
As I opened up the door, to my surprise..
The Pork Chops were dancing with the
Chicken Thighs..
They said, "don't bother us now, 'cause
were really hot, none of us are gonna
sit in here and rot.."
Sweet Fruit and some Juices were doing
it too, and the Milk standing tall was
singing Moo, Moo, Moo..
As I opened up the freezer, I heard a
different beat..
All of the other stuff was grooving
with the Meat..
Everybody was getting down, then
I gently closed the door..
But I see no rest for me, this night..
My feet keep tapping on the floor..

Clueless
Be careful what you wish for is the old saying what person hasn’t wished they had a monkey well I didn’t just wish I dutifully sent my
nineteen ninety five off to Florida one squirrel monkey please in about a week he arrived at Jefferson what a thrill he came in a little
Wood crate not much bigger than a shoe box at first I was upset by the meager delivery package soon I would be wishing it came with
A small monkey sized straight jacket you felt sorry for him all alone in a strange place it would be like a wagon train seeing a lone
Indian oh how sad he probably feels intimidated by all of us all the while he is the scout while six hundred are sneaking into position to
Attack so there we set him starring us staring back you know I had a mirror if I wanted to stare and least I would know what was
Being thought about out in Monterey the pastor had been a missionary to the apache in Arizona the custom you would go in set down
And not say a word for thirty minutes very nerve wrecking to say the least I could have made a sock puppet if I just wanted something
Lifeless to lay there well maybe he was hungry monkeys eat bananas here boy enjoy this he did he came to life a little if this had a title
It would be wild meets tame and stupid because the longer this went on the simpler you felt I don’t know what hidden button was
Pushed but he came to life and like a shot out of the box across the floor on the couch up on the back of the couch and seemingly
Straight up the bare wall onto the grandfather clock that set on a ledge shelf oh we found out he wasn’t constipated from his trip
Because as he went up the wall his banana straight pipe right through his system came flying out well by this time everyone without a
Tail had gone on high alert grandma mom aunt and sister and yours truly were in hot pursuit while he rested on top of the clock like
A monkey god if anybody walked up on the porch and looked through the picture window and saw all of us stretching and reaching
For his highness they probably thought we were worshiping our monkey god I don’t think the clock bonged but the banana or
Something caused another burst of energy later out home we would suffer a like fate with a toy poodle we were gone he ate a bag
Of chocolate cookies while we were out on a white cloth couch they said that was dangerous for his breed yes right the only thing
He was a little extra zippy that and when we left colored Easter eggs and went out I opened the door the smell hit me in the face they
Say big foot smells like eggs well he could have been setting on the couch I wish he had so off the clock a good seven foot drop then
Like a dream does instantly it turned to briar rabbit don’t throw me in that briar patch briar fox the monkey races across the floor
Shoots through the bedroom door don’t chase me into the bed springs oh stupid one how he fit in there I don’t know let me tell you
Fur ball from Florida hell I shoot pool at whitey’s pool hall every weekend this broom will do I looked like a Plummer snaking out a
Sewer as I shoved it through the springs time and again our new friend had this quickness one minute he is between the springs
And then in one motion he pulls himself out and up on the top of the bed time for sis to take a crack at the problem she approaches
With two big oven mittens on she sticks out her hand and says nice monkey at first he looks interested but then like a flash and I don’t
Know who was quicker it looked an old west gun fight that and a challenge to a duel because he bit the glove and then sis spoke the
Same uncle said about the turnips you s.o.b. and slapped his face in a duel your suppose to take your hand out of the glove well he just
turned his face with the slap then just stared at her but little did we know he put a monkey curse on her it came out later country girl
Ha s her own place clashes with modern connivance she gets a new Frigidaire it makes its own ice how nice well if not for the monkey
Curse it might have been nice the thing was like a super hen shooting out ice all day ever hour the tray would be full after a while you
Get tired of going to the back door continually throwing the ice out in the back yard not to mention the icy swamp you create
Something had to give it did she reached in there and tore its gizzard out or something who needs ice well at least not enough
For a block party every day or so I guess I might as well tell you the rest of the curse my mother was next on this vengeful little turds
Agenda well we never got to name him well **** isn’t quiet right more like splat any way we were living over by the fairgrounds in
Our luxuries digs I say that because we had a delicacy you know chocolate covered aunts well cake covered I was eating away
And to my surprise there I was eating an aunt city riddled through the cake far in the future I ate caviar on a diner boat as we sailed on
San Francisco bay but I don’t recommend the cake aunt variety not when it comes as a surprise well listen we were cleaning up we had
An appointment you heard of the sales man of the year well this was the sales failure of the year he was coming to sell us life insurance
Yea and soon as we got it signed then we could take the trip to mars as planned and if anything happened well you know we were
Covered well here right at the end we found this old felt hat how innocent mom even started a fire in the stove in it went my Endora
From bewitched starting coming out it didn’t take long inside the house it was magical it was pitch dark and how big was that any way
I’m sorry we must have already been to mars because we must have gotten the hat there and they made it from a supper skunk god the
Odor if we had termites they would have killed each other trying to get out of that stink bag well when this wonder of a salesman got
There he must have thought we were foreigners that conducted business out in the yard well that the monkey story o yes the end
I threw a blanket over him took him over on the river gave him to Lloyd I went back a few days later he was setting on his shoulder
Calm as a cucumber but he ignored me thanks nineteen dollars shot well it does make a story the people in this story their identities
Have been changed to protect the stupid.

(To JS/07/M/378/ This Marble Monument
Is Erected by the State)

He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a
saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every
way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it
cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Installment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace: when there was war,
he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of
his generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their
education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.

Pleads her mint blue eyes
Thank you for the patting touch
If I crave for a saucer of milk
Would that be asking too much?

Of course you have the right to ignore
And throw my way a vacant stare
Signing me to move away from door
Pretending there’s no milk in Frigidaire!

But I beg you to act humanly
Be ethical and firmly fair
If you got some milk for your tea
Surely you’ve some for me to spare!

Parting a few drops wouldn’t make you poor
My blessings would give you manifold back
You would feel far happier and I’m sure
Sky won’t fall if your brew is more black!

Well if you still ignore I would move away
With dignity I would leave your ground
But don’t blame me when comes the day
You feel a void and I’m not around!

.

Left alone, the abyss of failure
closes in,
for days it seems like weeks,
though months are now reduced to counted minutes

Coffin’d stances form the stoic barricade
which surrounds my hope
in picket lines of untrained defectors

I claw at its lid,
thrashing mightily to my sides
as collections of miseries
flood this chamber of my coerced sleep

“I am here!” I shout,
hearing my words
echo in distance dance halls
two stepping on my memory,
spitting above where I lie

Here - a relevant term
as columns of disbelief carve themselves
from my mind.

Forgotten, left for dead,
erased from the blackboard
by the firm swishing hand of fate…
reduced to dust (I don’t feel like dust)

Blisters climb my arms in search of answers,
none can be found here,
where ever the hell here is… yet, I am here

My brain circles the skyline in desperation,
the gutters below cry, trash strewn as if it were me
sleeping off my drunk
in that Frigidaire box

“I am me!” I cry to the empty corridors of someone else’s life
One I’d rather be
Or one who would rather not?

…….

Someday my file may lie open,
atop a desk,
a partitioned sanctuary of hidden ethics,
beneath the crumpled Cheeto’s bag,
now layered with stale orange crumbs

maybe someone will see

maybe someone will wonder

or maybe still forgotten

When the shower curtains are made of silk and bleach detergent is in your milk, there are subtle signals of your malady played to the notes under this melody.
This house is a frozen Frigidaire. Remnants kept
Cold.
Bare.
Simple thoughts of the sandman’s nightmares.
The monsters escape from beneath the stairs.
They're afraid of freezing, afraid of Death.
Though you stand there breathing yet can't feel your breath. And you're there in the hallway.
And you're there in the breezeway.
And you're on the white balcony playing dead.
You're in between the wallspace.
And you're in the creaks of the staircase.
And you're on the ivory keys playing this song in my head.
The car in the driveway is 50-years-old.
The tires are roots. The seat belts are mold.
There's no gas in the fuel tank, the steering wheel's gone.
You sit as the driver, your blinker's stuck on.
I found your name in the library news. It vaguely explained what had happened to you.
For most of your life you were silver spooned
Wealthy
And rich.
Yet, simultaneously
Cold.
And bare.  
Slowly sipping musical arsenic
Unhappy
Dead.

I wake with the sun
In hopes of meeting you.
thick with pasteurization,
you have the probiotics I crave.
Chilled from your Frigidaire home,
all you need is a stir.
lumpy and unsatisfying,
homogenization is the goal.
I mix tirelessly until nightfall,
praying for your smooth texture
At last,
it is mixed.
or so I thought.
your betrayal,
clumpy.
It leaves me hurt,
and hungry
I must mix again.

Slouching on the couches
raiding the Frigidaire.

Fighting against inertia
battling against despair
hungry for something more
than this,
raiding the Frigidaire.

When I awaken, inevitably,
In the middle of the night, the black cat,
His slender, aged frame beneath my feet,
Accompanies me to the Frigidaire
Where his food sets waiting in a tin can
Outside of time and space and just beside
My next stop, the modest lavatory,
So good to have inside at three a.m.
On a winter's night, then comes to my chair,
Found outside on the sidewalk, improvement
On the one before, and sits on its arm,
My partner sleeping on the other side,
Stretched out on the sofa, infirm but loved,
As I graft another line on St. James.

With mighty mouse and Hercules height
tried to retrieve sanity spread loose;
a faded unpleasant memory - even enlisting
decades old cartoon characters:
Natasha squirrel and Bullwinkle moose
flow of electrons the best-concocted juice
since the convection
of white bread or couscous
for without Fios, light and heat
the slow strangle via an invisible noose

gripped this bantam weight
hen pecked papa -
who tried to peruse
Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy
while buried under
blankets and towels - Toulouse
any and every molecule of heat,
yet frigidaire within abode
(technically about 455 degrees Fahrenheit)
went with Brad and Ray,
boot did not go vamoose.

Thine recollected diatribe
analogous to a rite of initiation
thru fraternity gauntlet -
no, not necessarily atchew
anyway, I sure hope ***** remission
asper any offal debacle choking bugaboo
which once malignantly plagued
your body, mind, spirit
as fowl existence doomed matt chew
for when countless full moons ago,
the force o mother nature drew

whipped out her scimitar,
where chaos such as
power n telephone outages flew
sweeping across bulwarks,
drawbridge over troubled waters,
and ramparts whereby
huge limbs and wires
Ole man winter with
a jude dish hiss punch did hew
indiscriminate to gentile or Jew
or one necessitating answering a call

to deaf ack ate while atop the loo,
cuz such fate occurred there
at previous residence
DCCXXIV Railroad Ave n new
where the lack of heat or phone service
induce sing expletives stronger than poo
but...during the blackout,
this papa read by flashlight huddled
under mildewed layers of clothes
n bland kits, and did rue
how susceptible n vulnerable society

to whims of natural faw iz - tis true
at least in my view,
whence this generic human
predicted he would become
apprised as fossilized,
immortalized, and ossified,
thence accidentally discovered
millenniums in future,
hence as frozen petrified representative
per twenty first century,
where wily fox prudent terrestrial realtor.

Now that yar brow didst I scrunch
possibly goot dealt
a similar meteorological punch
thus possibly lack king
for electricity i.e. the life source energy,
this then mister mom,
and taxi dad supposed back up hunch
hove (at that time)

two prepubescent darling daughters -
oft times thrilled as punch
to kibbutz with during lunch
when dire circumstances
imposed spurious silliness
to fritter away time –
for measly grueling fodder,
earmarked, ****** cold brunch.

Twas and still Liz
a blessing social networks
allowed, enabled and promoted literary trait
virtually contrived acquaintances of yore,
and usually visa vis discovery
(though transient got me I rate)
hull reflect on technological
modus operandi back
before bachelorhood complemented
and supplemented mein kampf

with an affectionately loving mate
many years, and even of late
though amity, comity
and felicity nestles this roost stir,
whose then newlywed bride
that's my wife, he DOTH no longer hate
and communicate emotions
across the whirled wide web
(i.e. - this example
between yourself and me) -

Noah intent to grate
now, internecine warfare usually all calm
on the western front
from hellish, gory figurative
ball of wax bollix
engineering denizens of fate
in tandem with banshees, gremlins,
and jinns out the box of Pandora rollicked
their elements of Strunk and White,
and pandemonium they did fiendishly create.