We all know it

Walking down the street on a rainy day

You feel that familiar twitch

We all know it but we don’t show it

It’s that shifty bum crack itch.

 

It starts in the middle with a little tickle

And it spreads out from there

You clench your cheeks but still it sneaks

Up and down your puckered derriere.

 

Your smile’s a rictus, the dread pruritus

Is causing you no pain

But if you don’t choose it, you’re going to lose it

And go completely insane.

 

You’re out of options, your anus throbbing

You crab-walk to a tree

The bears all do it, there’s nothing to it

They scratch for all eternity.

 

It’s a clear consensus, you’re not an ursus

Your butt continues to wail

Unless you’re right bent, there is no treatment

Quite like your fingernails.

A spider up the bell

A spider up the bell

A spider up the bell 

 Hi-ho, arachnid go 

 A spider up the bell

Cross orb weaver - YouTube

I could be lying

I could be lying 

 When I am crying 

 I could be telling tails 

 Out of school 

 Playing fast 

With the rules 

 I could be, I could be 

 But what are the odds 

 That I'm a fraud? 

Well, that's a twist 

 You'll have to risk 

 If you want 

 To be close to me

And you'd better be ready 

 For an aroma quite heady 

 Coming from my poop 

And from my pee 

 I'll lick my fur 

 And I'll purr 

 As I scratch your furniture 

 'Cause I'm a cat, 

I'm a brat 

 (Some say twat, so there's that) 

 And you'll never 

 Ever Own me.

Planting native species

Farkas paused over the hole she'd just dug. It was about six inches deep and the water she'd poured in had started to percolate down into the soil. She sat back on her haunches and waited for it. A chickadee called off to her left, but chicka'd only two dees, so it wasn't upset, just chatty. When all the water was gone, she picked up a pot and up ended it over the hole, giving it gentle but firm pats all along the sides and bottom to loosen the soil.  She extracted the plant, a bloodroot, feeling the satisfying suction as it was loosed from the pot. She sprinkled mycorrhizal fungi all over the roots, popped it in the hole, and centred it. She heaped the soil around the plant, pressing down gently and making a small well. She watered again. Again she sat back on her haunches, and tapped the pot to get the last of the soil out. 

He'd gone to high school with her. He'd been an asshole even then. He'd grown into an even larger puckered buttpit when he went into real estate and eventually, opened his own development firm, his only aim in life to make money. 

Hard to believe they still hadn't found him yet. 

Who knew?

 Written June 26, 1989

Sssszzt! And the metal ring snaps open and tiny Don Ho bubbles fill up the air space above.

"Don't shush me" and I guzzle, faster than I should, ginger acids my nose hairs.

"Ow, ooo, oh!" Pain, not-so-pain, return to steady state.

I set the aluminum can down and open another before the first one is done with.

The spriting schpritzes rush about to & fro, here & there.

"Slow down, slow down."

Who knew?

Who knew that the sex we had with

    air conditioners,

    made in Japan,

    for Canadian winters

Would lead to this? This hole I cannot see above my head?

I tip both cans upside down on linoleum and gently place them in the blue box.

The Fantastic Aerial Odyssey of José-Antonio, or "Pennies in December"

Pennies in December

Coins in ice that don't let

Just anyone pick 'em up.

Half-smoked cigarettes

Lip-stick tainted

Pressed against cold lips, thin

"Ain't nothing like a good drag."

"Heard the grocery store's dumping bananas."

Throwing away everything that isn't beautiful.

Even pennies in December.

Get Bent

This is my polemic

To the idiot pandemic

That is utterly endemic

To my current situation.

 

I find myself surrounded by

The world’s most singular dufi

Who have ever passed on by

Our planetary creation.

 

And it’s not just covid bitches,

Forest killers or the social ditches

That we fall into so gently as a leaf onto a lake

It is the utter chaos we’ve created

Never questioned or berated

That says everyone deserves a new gadget and a break.

 

The creepers and the speeders

The LOL text-only-readers

Who smack into those with any kind of sense

Deserve a big ol’ punch

A slap a smack a crunch

And be boiled into spicy condiments.

 

All the Amazon apologists

And WalMart greeter-ologists

Who smell roses when Elon Musk is in the air.

No, I will never be

A shill for a monopoly

Yes, I really’d rather submit

To the wafts of smelly shit

That plop from rabid raccoon derrieres.

 

And I don’t think that it’s stretching

(To pause briefly from my social retching)

To say that everyone wants everything right now!

Don’t worry how to pay,

That’s for another day!

I want I want I want I want, wow wow wow!

 

But the bill has now been called

And we’re well and truly balled

‘Cause we’re crashing and have run out all our time

We’re run down all the clocks

Thrown our values into hock

And drained the Earth’s accounts down to a dime.

 

And I know this ought to shake me

But it only serves to make me

More determined to be who I’ve always been.

 

Which is what? I often ask.

It has been my lifelong task

To understand why people piss me off so much.

And I know that I’ve got blinkers

But some folks are just plain stinkers

And I don’t use my upbringing as a crutch.

 

I’ve screamed that we are bullocked

‘Cause the world is full of pillocks

But so many had no clue what that word meant

So for those who find me snotty

You can kiss my Sharon Boddy

Fuck off mate, shove off, and oh yes, please do get bent.