Sunday, October 30, 2011

A REVEAL


"There are only two things that I love anymore" I told the cashier.
"Water and onions."

And then I bought some tomatoes and bananas that were on sale.

THIS DISHWASHER

This dishwasher goes on and on and on
like an eternity of bustling libraries with
a card catalogue that is waterproof but
here’s the funny thing:

the only words in that card catalogue are
“dish” “cutlery” “glasses””pots” “pans” and
sadly, “filth” “drowning” and of course “help.”

HERE ARE THE DIFFERENT WAYS YOU CAN SPELL "HELP"

leph, phle, hple, ephl, lphe, eplh, plhe, ehpl, hple,
elhp, pleh, lphe, ehlp, pelh, hlep, pelh, etc.

when you are in a terrible hurry.

LEGACY

RICKY GARNI

* Make sure all words are spelled correctly.
* Try different keywords.
* Try more general keywords.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

FILL IN THE BLANK:


Sure, I’ll buy that book.
It ...

1) is brown
2) has a nun in it
3) smells like victory
4) loves me back
5) 's four dead in o-hi-o
6) is haunting my life
7) is haunting your life
8) is so cute I could just squeeze it to death
9) to death
10) is saying if loving you is wrong I... (fill in the blank)

a) don’t want to be right
b) want to be right
c) love orville wright


11) is my book anyway

Thursday, October 27, 2011

DEAR MARGARET TATE

Dear Margaret Tate,

I have enjoyed living at Apartment B-35 since 2001, but I just thought that you should know that THE PEANUT ROASTER is still thinking of you. They want you to buy their signature nut gifts, including but not limited to the Old-Fashioned Peanut Squares, the Hot Honey Peanuts, the Golden Gourmets and the Jalapenos. Me, I can’t decide which one I would buy - they all look scrumptious! But since this mailing is addressed to you right here at Apartment B-35, I feel that it would be irresponsible not to pass it along to you, Margaret Tate, the rightful recipient and former tenant, Apartment B-35. Since I don’t know where you live now, and since Joan Whitney lived in Apartment B-35 from 1990 until 2001, and since you lived in Apartment B-35 before Joan Whitney, and even perhaps before John Cadwallader did and Henry Gibbons before him, I will do the only thing I can do, and send this letter addressed to you, Margaret Tate / Apartment B-35 / USA and hope for the best. If you receive it, please do tell me that it has arrived and then I will know you are a ghost or spectre living in Heaven, Apartment B-35. If you are a ghost or spectre living in Heaven, Apartment B-35, please let me offer you my congratulations! I am proud and frankly, a little envious. And if you still enjoy The Peanut Roaster, I would suggest an order that includes the Golden Gourmets. I don’t think you will find a tastier treat anywhere on earth. The Peanut Roaster swears to God on that.

Sincerely,

Ricky / Apartment B-35 / USA
2011

Sunday, October 23, 2011

8 SMALL, SHORT POEMS

FLEETINGLY
It occurred to me
that a bonfire ...

**

MARSHMALLOW
Please don’t
make me

**

ATOMIC BOMB
What color?

**

WATCH ME
buy this Ferrari
with my mind

**

YEAH
I bet

**

MURGATROYD
somewhere a pink lion
is on its way to heaven

**

I FEEL
better now

**

WHICH
bonfire?

Monday, October 17, 2011

DON'T BOTHER TO KNOCK


Saw a terrifically scary movie the other night.

Had a thought.

What about throwing a cute little bunny rabbit in there?

Marilyn Monroe hog ties a little girl in her bed.

She locks her uncle in a closet, runs down the stairs
of the hotel, buys a razor blade and holds it to her wrist.

Now would be a good time to throw in a bunny rabbit!

Hippity Hippity Hop.

What's that? Marilyn Monroe asks.

Why, it’s a bunny rabbit, Richard Widmark says.

Isn’t it the cutest thing, Marilyn Monroe purrs.

The bunny rabbit sniffs the razor blade and hops away.

Hippity Hop!

Aww, Marilyn Monroe sighs,
Is there anything more precious in the whole world?

Everyone smiles. The police bang on the door.

Now then, Marilyn asks, Where was I?

Saturday, October 15, 2011

LOST SHAKESPEARE

She walks into the room with a cake.
And then she starts screaming.
I never heard THAT word before. Or THAT.
My heart was trembling and my shoes were too tight.
I ran out of the house, it rained and my dog died.
And that’s why I never eat cake anymore.
Unless it is really delicious.

PAINTER

We listen when he picks up the brush. And then we watch when he puts it down. When he falls down, we gasp. When he gets up, if he does, we clap our hands.

Monday, October 10, 2011

THE CONFESSIONS OF RALPH

As I grow older, or let’s say as Ralph grows older, he cares more and more about two things: clouds and water.

He talks about clouds all the time.

Just yesterday he said, “Is that a battalion of alien space ships?”

And a glass of refreshing, ice cold water is like nothing else on earth.

“Mmm, delicious,” said Ralph. “Perhaps I will have one more glass.”

Funny, though, Ralph, or let’s say I - I don’t about the water that clouds hold.

And I don’t care about the clouds in my glasses.

Just the clouds in the sky; just the water in my glass.

Realizing at a certain age that you must buy a new brand of detergent is something I accept, but it is not really something. Realizing that it will probably rain is OK, too, and I have forgotten it already, and that is just fine with me. Does it matter?

But ice cold water, Ralph, and beautiful white clouds ...oh Ralph ...

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