by Joe DeMarco
Confessions of Pistachio Pudding
The pudding said to the whipped cream
"I love the way you feel on top of me...
all light and sugary...but I have a confession
I was not always a bowl of Pistachio Pudding
I used to be Lancelot
And
I suspect you were once Guinevere
I suspect that maybe Dave Matthews
Was once Mozart
I suspect that writers reciprocally
create the same masterpieces over and over again
Just changing them
But leaving the same message
and thus 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,' became 'Satellite'
I suspect that possibly Arthur Laurents was William Shakespeare and that's why Westside Story and Romeo and Juliet are so similar
I suspect a lot of things that animate objects would never suspect
When your inanimate you see things others can't
and so my delectable whipped cream
I suspect I have known you before."
Confessions of a Blowtorch
The Blowtorch said to the Steel
“I am going to enjoy this
More than you know
Believe you me
We reap what we sow
Like bright burning fire turns wood to gray ashes
Like a Singapore criminal that gets thirteen lashes
It is now my turn
to burn into you
For three past lives
I suffered through
You were rubber
while I was glue
You were the slaughterhouse
while I cried out 'Moo!'
You were the white man
And my people the Sioux
But the past is the past
We start a new
And this is my turn 'to do'
what I do
Like kismet karma on a merry-go-round
The truth is false
The lost is found
I burn you steel
I feel your pain
I’ve cried your cry
I feel no shame.”
* It should be ironically noted that the steel was in no way hurt or bothered by the flame of the blowtorch
Last updated November 13, 2011