Grumpy Bastard

Grumpy Bastard

You and I watched him talk to someone.
Maybe himself. Possibly someone else.
The inner layer of his Egg McMuffin?
Certain communicable properties of his
klondike mustache? The guy was upset.
He had already had a bad day, at 9 a.m.

Basically, don't give him a gun.
It's a Monday morning. He doesn't go to work
today. Nor any day this upcoming week.
But do not prolong your gaze. He will
tear your eyes out, and shit on them.
Because you looked at his.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010

Hailstones, Finn Field

Hailstones, Finn Field

A modern car would have folded in on itself
an empty Evian bottle pelted with meteorites.
But I had that '72 Pontiac Ventura. Blue, yet.

Those were days when we ran to all storms
craving proximity to anything unpredictable.
Lusting about the possibility of devastation.

Wanting floods floodier, quakes quakier
hoping the news was worse, we watched.
You gave me the look, I grabbed a jacket.

A tornado in a western county, moving east.
Does anyone need to know more? You
tossed me the keys as we both jumped in.

We reclined on that windshield, waiting
as lightning flashed horizontal. Finn Field
never housing more astute, hometown fans.

Bring it on, suck us on up to Kansas! Do it!
And the first one hit you on the second
exclamation point. And the next, my knee.

Heavenly Top Flites unleashed, we rolled
in opposite directions, laughing, screaming
Lock the doors, you yelled, as we cowered.

Something neither of us imagined, fell down
from somewhere, and we laughed. We knew
then, that moment, that we had done it all.

Tonight, it seems I am dying in this bed.
And the thing I know, as I leave all, is that
your hair is wet, and you want me to Lock --

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010

Shift

Shift

I always slow down for the orange
so I can stop at the red looking up.
Look up and see the inner blue glow.
The flower pots hanging still moist
from times we watered those plants.

You lifted your arm once to throw an
empty wine glass but I saved you from
your own eviction. You stumbled back
backwards hitting your sweet head on
that very pot the one that is - Red

light - Was a time I had a key to
that glow. Dangled from this ignition.
I had a key and I would park there.
Right there. I accelerate. Driving on
for the red has now turned to green.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010