49.04 Poetry by Paula

[shoeless.db]

Flight of the Dodo
by Paula N.M. Jennings

Dutch oven sailors leaving
the Dodo to roast. To roost.
Too long.

Bonked on the head.
Thrown over the back.
Digested in the boil bucket of acid
in the stomach
Or, left to die.

Decompose.
Decomposed.
Because of the defensivelessness of the
Dodo.

Just as, like a metaphor,
the 2049 Mad Hatter Popes
Crazy from touching the god of shopkeepers
and travelers
and tricksters.

Should have worn gloves.
Or gloves that work.
Unlike
the 2049 Mad Plops.

Finis.


(editor's note: As of 4/7/2049, Sacramento is 15th in the Frick in zone rating)

[Dington]

Has my vote for Poolitzer.

[tylertoo]

• Is it too late to vote for this in the Caleca awards?
• Doesn't poetry usually rhyme?
• What were you smoking?

[mragland]

balls elude Pope gloves
there is no explanation
but small sample size

[Dington]

balls elude Pope gloves
there is no explanation
but small sample size

Great haiku. I believe it’s just small balls in Sacramento that are the problem.

[CTBrewCrew]

[Clayman]

It had me weeping into my porridge, I'm just not sure if it was emotional weeping or if it had set an ulcer of and that was causing the weeping.

[Drew_V]

Brava!

[tylertoo]

There once was a GM named Shoeless
Whose management style was hubris
The fans, they grew tired
They wanted him fired
But the owner was also quite clueless