And now,

now you are always in school…

Measured by

believable

pixelated yardsticks

a slice on the bias

that slaps

pictured apples,

orange paintings, and

full-on lemon poetry with umbrella measure

–umbrellas the stoners can’t manage

since they wear skullcaps,

and hang out behind the church getting high…

Skyscraping comparisons are made

— different trains on the same track

blue-printing incidental white lies

in instant if forced word problems

that chalk up hourly.

like flies on seriously rotted cafeteria food.

(a selection of diamonds, meerkats, and tomatoes)

but really,

how often do those things blend

outside of news streams?

Stone Soup

& 20 questions?

Highest heels ricochet down interminable halls

>the ones no one wears for long<

echoing with authority

but the cool kids

were never in the building

they went off campus for lunch

and never came back…

Never noticed

your mad moves

my sick skills

and

his individuated conformity

that scribbles across yearbooks

(or 50x a day book)

who cares if the picture rubberstamped

(Mr. President, in each instance)

is photo bombed

its transcendent caption

just the littlest bit obscene…

As long as the vote’s in

for deepest lies.

©Karen Robiscoe

 
We’ve been exclusive for a while now

—haven’t we

you and me…
 
 
and I know you’re Mr. Write.

It’s crib note obvious, is what it is

—the writing’s on every Wall there is!

We spend every minute together….

From the wee

to the woo

to the whee

to the whew

to the woah

and the “hey now”

and back again

you even wake me up in the middle of the night with your…er…demands

and it’s gotten so it’s clear you know me better than anyone else

—and aren’t afraid to put it in writing, either,

and that being the case, Mr. Write

it’s only seamly we make  this official…

So yes.

I’ll take thee, publishing house

to be my awfully vetted publishers…

©Karen Robiscoe

A modern day faerie can’t be too careful
—she ought to sleep on the right.
Under promotional dreamcatchers
from Chumash Casino
and Uncle Milton’s Magically Phasing Moon.
She must hang faceted, plexi-glass crystals
in halls.
suspended on quicksilver
–dusting incidental cobwebs–
and tying knots for Spiders when she’s able.

The modern day faerie keeps
artificial rubber trees well-trimmed
‘waters them with thought
placing them strategically wherever
civilization juts
or intersects
creating a sense of faux
that softens edges and corners
likely to cut.

Next,
it’s essential this up-to-date faerie burn patchouli…
Sage-like leaves that
open doors and windows for
(more than banishing)
Listless sprites
from hearth-less home
(those pushing stones up obsolete grade)
She should always carry back-up pepper spray, however.

The modern day faerie is apt
* as girl faeries are *
to spell her name unusually
to no good effect
to dribble DPI
& pixel dust
in her wake
your sleep
butterflying
the periphery with wing casings.

A totally with-it pixie
this au courant faerie consults familiars
–cats in glass boxes,
birds in metaphor
and penguins on TV, now and again
since they’re especially quiet.
Loyal, too,
caring nothing at all if this then limits the scope of Q&A
She makes do…

The modern day faerie
reflects on things, and
–Gorgons, too,
chasing limelight
and dancing a scurvy dervish in the foots, all the while,
gathering society’s
elusive Turkish Delight
while she’s at it,
that lowliest of alloyed grails
for all its build-up
“extra” cash
since the modern day faerie operates the spots while she’s there, also.

©Karen Robiscoe

 

 
 
I will quit you

like that,

I will

and then what?
 
 
 
 
 
You’ll miss me

is what.

You’ll falter.

It always happens,

but I won’t come back

I never have.

©Karen Robiscoe

the Muse

a Musing anecdote