so much depends
upon
a pink ham
steak
glazed with apricot
jam
beside the green
beans
so much depends
upon
a pink ham
steak
glazed with apricot
jam
beside the green
beans
Captain Stubing awakes on the deck of a cruise ship.
How did he get here? What has he become?
Guest star Charo eats some bad salmon, is forced
into close quarters with Doc Bricker. ¡Ay, dios mio!
Hour-long closeup of Isaac, staring into
the middle distance while wiping a martini glass.
Vicki wonders what life is all about.
Ah, well. Time to hit the disco.
Certain promises are made
by guest star Betty White.
Julie, having no other activity ideas, directs
the passengers—including guest star Charo—
in a production of No Exit on the Lido Deck.
Some ugly lady and some ugly dude almost break up,
but then they look up at the stars together and decide
that’s a whole lot of empty space up there.
Gopher. We haven’t seen much of him yet.
He’s been living deep in the ship’s hold,
lining his nest with cast-off cocktail dresses.
Chlamydia sweeps through the Pacific Princess.
No one is spared. (You knew this was coming.)
Guest star Art Carney, clearly confused, keeps
delivering lines to some imaginary waitress character
named Alice. The regular cast rolls with it.
What is this all about? Nobody knows anymore.
The ship runs aground, and this bunch
must somehow form a family.
Various things are made from coconuts.
I suppose you could call it that.
A version of love, sure.
Two people die while dismantling the Princess,
overcome, at last, by her toxic gases.
If it’s Tuesday p.m., check out Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. Today’s PAD Challenge prompt: Love poem/anti-love poem. (I think this is the latter.)
The Pancayke
(after William Blake’s The Tyger)
Pancayke! Pancayke! Newly born
In the griddle of the morn,
What immortal hand and plate
Could prepare thee to meet thy fate?
In what distant bowl or dish
Did thy flour and eggs first squish?
With what spoon dare he to stir?
What the mixer dare to whirr?
And what slow and steady man
Could pour thee in the frying pan?
And when thy dough began to firm,
What bold spatula gave thee a turn?
What the flipper? What the fork?
And dost thou go well with pork?
Where’s the bacon? Or the links?
Did we eat them, quick as a wink?
When we all threw down our knives
And got up to resume our lives,
Did he smile our mess to clean?
Did he yell or make a big Scene?
Pancayke! Pancayke! Newly born
In the griddle of the morn,
What immortal hand and plate
Could prepare thee to meet thy fate?