June 18, 2015 
Comments Off on World’s Biggest Violin
I’ve been a
little shittle,
entitled i to
• tittle •
benighted bow
a sickle,
applied to
whining
fiddle–
–as big as any
cello,
the strings I’ve drawn
all bellow,
the things gone on
unmellow,
a violins song
so ghetto–
–blasting and
lambasting
abrupt and so
abrasive,
a diatribe
displacing,
discordant and
de·bas·ing–
–but bigger yet
is harpie,
I will not strum—
so snarky,
and thus my thrummed
malarkey,
will fade to hum
and sharply.
©Karen Robiscoe
June 14, 2015 Comments Off on Taller Ants
Her personality was like
a very old
(and improperly corked)
champagne,
a little carbon-dated,
and she wasn’t the happiest of campers, either.
way too: pinkie extended
pre·Tent·ious,
and glue·me,
I was nevertheless
stuck on her.
© Karen R.
June 11, 2015 Comments Off on the State of Anapamu
If you want readers,
–if you really do–
skip pen & paper,
Like a stone
and kibosh keypunch,
hunt and peck and hunt and peck and
forget every shade of black and white there is, too, or at the very least smudge it,
and hunt and peck and hunt
a little
employ its outline, and
peck
at most, and then
immediately dry erase,
creating some double-duty diversion to redirect—say:
Look over there! Is that (a) well-aimed bookend coming for ya?
as an unconscious reader is
>this close<
to sub-text
and write in color!
High definition color!
Technicolor
…
ahh
…
color!
Code that chrome
poem
and
pantone those
prose pair a’ graphs
and
Tem·pur·ify this tittled
text, and
–f*ck ‘em if they call it graffiti, because is it really?
There’s nothing gray about it, and any true feat involved in an ersatz emoji world,
It’s in Webster’s now
the better.
emoji
The more hue·manity
–the best.
©Karen Robiscoe
June 6, 2015 Comments Off on Bard Between the Lines
Library police
bust offenders for
un·seamly acts, they
profile
mal·contents
in the most
forward manner, they
target
The Borrowers
more than a little, they
pose no burning questions whatsoever
–just tick off index
before booking them into
Library Jail…
a bad ending, to say the least
a Page Purgatory populated
by career speed readers,
whose readout is overdue nevertheless
by textbook losers, bye
chronic book mark·ers, by
bloated pieces of work with
bad ink & dog earrings,
in the write ear
pretty much exclusively.
©Karen Robiscoe
June 4, 2015 Comments Off on the Log•in my I
eye made a mistake, eye fixed
my spectacle
(s)
my Shade
(s)
my 3D vision
(s)
seeking to replace the write eye
that was log-jammed, and irksomely would•he
with rat pack finesse.
~the left I established long ago~
exchanging shattered glass
(still)
kaleidoscope colorful
& loupes
(still)
daring & dizzying
& faceted view
(still)
reflecting the million seen
(s)
for unsplintered lenses…
dangerously flimsy, but there were no contacts
fitting horn rims with
double convex,
rhinestone detail,
& tortoise shell
plus choke-chain lanyard,
& while this fresh outlook
is ordered…
or· gone ·eyes
is glaring in magnified detail…
is stylish, mirrored, & polarized…
like a blind man’s
is bi, tri, and my focal
exclusively
it’s shuttered my
3rd eye
in Coke bottle
goggles,
safe, but pointless
and
eye
can no longer
see.
©Karen Robiscoe
June 3, 2015 Comments Off on Pun (ish) Meant
I run with Edward Scissorhands
>>>>>
a paper without rock…
and Wet old Willie
makes me frilly
curling my card stock,
while timing out
< releases <<<<<
a second rule: 2
the grimace made
from glut & paste
sticks my face like
. glue .
I displace so well with
others
(though)
a spilling MILF in tears…
a bundled bunch
of out to lunch
a pretzel–side of fear.
©Karen Robiscoe
May 29, 2015 Comments Off on Mort…u Weary?
Ever notice how
rigid Mort is?
It’s like he’s
6 feet under,
already…
I combed his toes,
taggin’ ‘em
gave his
cat a tonic,
a lil nip
and his bull head
room
& he never batted an eye.
©Karen Robiscoe
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