FIVE POEMS
The reviews for the date were in:
6.1, 7.0, 5.8, 3.4 (!) from the panel.
“No chance of a second, then,” thought Colm.
“Bloody judges.”
He read the feedback from Judge 4,
(the one who’d given him 3.4) –
“Absolutely munted,” it read.
It was his mother’s handwriting.
“The system needs an overhaul,” he grumbled into his toast.
***
“We’re thinking Camphor Tourniquet if a boy,
and Penchbress Narco Golightly
if embodying more ceramics flair,”
I overheard at the cafe.
I grabbed my cup of dog soup and scuttled away, sweating.
Outside I was given a parking ticket
for someone else’s car.
I freedom-kissed the parking inspector, but they were…
unmoved, at best.
***
In 2038,
NASA, with the aid of private capital,
plan to project the 1960 film Some Like It Hot
on the surface of the moon.
The moon is likely to giggle
and break apart in the process,
Destroying Earth.
Please donate to my GoFundMe
***
The world’s ugliest crooner decided
to remove his mask, that night –
it was a mistake.
Everybody spewed.
Tully, the janitor, sighed.
He had a feeling he’d miss the midnight screening of Pink Flamingos now.
He rubbed Vick’s on his top lip,
to help with the smell.
In the shape of a pencil moustache, of couse.
***
Chrissy had a revelation in the desert
Where everything became clear at once.
“Fab!” she shouted, and jumped in her Jetta.
As she got back on the main road, though,
she realised she’d plum forgotten the rev.
So she headed back –
80km, thank you very much –
and re-revelationed herself.
This time she was sure she’d committed it to memory,
but again, back on the highway, it was gone.
The petrol tank was nearing E,
so she figured she’d leave it.
Plus she was famished,
and there was an Oporto at the next offramp.
By B Haughtly
Illustrations by Tyson Kalender (TheDrawingDroid on Etsy)
The Coburg Meddler 