Character Driven

I recently rediscovered these, which I composed a long time ago while working on a college opera production.

There was a soprano named Maggie

Who rehearsed in sweats that were baggy.

Her coloratura

And high E's were pure,

But the orchestra's tempo was draggy.

There was a young singer named Joe

Whose baritone boomed way down low.

His voice had such power,

When he sang in the shower

The whole town would come for the show.

Lovely lass in helmet and glasses

Would smile serenely as she nimbly passes

Those soft posteriors on the interiors

Automotive. Hybrid? Still inferiors

To feet on pedals, her strength and mettle.

But the bugs in her teeth would have her nettled.

The most perilous predicament Percy Pinter had seen

Began with pepperoni and a slicing machine.

He went to the hospital and heard, “You are the best

For this attachment procedure that we need to test.

“Your thumb will be the best microtechnology we’ve made.

It looks real but comes with every possible upgrade.”

So the doctor’s manic laughter Percy opted to ignore,

And next week he returned to work at the pizza store.

Then on a date with his girl Becca Banacziek,

His thumb hacked her accounts. Now her credit is a wreck.

So if you see poor Percival deliver pizza pie,

Be sure to tip in cash. Then tip off the FBI.

I’m not the very model of a comic superheroine.

I am not drawn by boys who need cold showers and some Ritalin.

My nose is well defined. My measurements aren’t your concern,

And I wear clothes that cover where I never want to get sunburn.

I very often help my kids with homework mathematical.

If I fight crime it is in shoes without a heel and practical.

About the family, school, and work I’m teeming with a lot of news,

Especially all about my latest favorite comic book issues.

I scratch out a living and the family eats three times a day.

I’m happy doing right no matter what the normal folks might say.

I have no superpowers, and I often need Excedrin,

But the kids think I’m a model of a modern real life heroine.

Popcorn from Heaven

Vanilla slush

Glaze melting into spontaneous wading pools

Filling with mud pie fixings

Generously sprinkled with powdered sugar

Accompanied by fireworks

And a prismatic light show finale through

Tiny crystal water balloons

Hurled capriciously upon my head

By startling cold blasts from the

Slate gray cotton candy.

 I wrote this under the inspiration of the one word my son uttered the first time he saw a hailstorm, "Popcorn."