Drifting in an Orange Sea

John Stickney, Wilmington, NC

—Poetry by John Stickney
—Other Photos Courtesy of Public Domain

PLANKTON

In this older life
I am taking a supplement
Derived from the wisest
Of all creatures—
The jellyfish,
To improve my mental acuity.

Does it work,
My wife asked.

But I could barely hear her,
Already several fathoms deep
Off the coral coast.


(Based on the actual advertised product, Prevagen)

 


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Our full list of ingredients
While still a state secret
Does include the recommended
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Hydroxychloroquine,
UV Light Rays© (with a delivery system
Consisting of variety of implements
To be inserted in various orifices, one
Preferred by Doctors© is the
Mushroom Wonder© with a two-speed light
Vibration system, patent pending),
Our proprietary Disinfectant (Clorox and Bleach),
And Trump’s Golden Waters©
(Trump’s Golden Waters is an exclusive
Formulation of Alien Semen harvested from
Area 51 and Other flavoring elements).
Only one tablet a day in the morning
And you will be COVID free all systems go.
Remember our right-thinking motto—
“Where one’s system goes,
All systems go!”
Trump’s miracle cure
Will make you feel
Like a ventilator
Has replaced your old,
Dirty lungs.
Buy today!


©Trump International

 

TRUMP’S HAIRKU
(Trump’s Hair on Cold Mountain)

My hair
Sweeps as naturally
As diverted rivers
These currents seem
Transfixed in captured
Motion—a permanent
Grain of wave
A cemented
Lap of shore

Hired hands
Wrestle with sword
And spear
To maintain the cover
Of the sandy
Rock-filled
Bed bottom
Below

* * *

THATCHED ROOF (a Trump Hairku)

Sing the praises
Of my imperial thatched roof!
Oh, how the Gods look down
With growing envy!

CITRUS SUN (Trump’s Face)

My skin
Has not felt you
For the longest time.

My face
Is the color
Of fruit gone bad.

ORANGE MENACE TAX CUTS

Like the sun and moon
Or coins—
In my two-sidedness
I am both—
            The master of wealth
            The master of poverty

Unlike the world outside
There is no balance
No Fifty-fifty
All give it to me
All take
All that is mine
A push on the scales
A stomp on the scales
A fix permanently set in

The ancient dogs
In my ruling cabinet
Lift their legs and
Howl in monied delight 

ASTRAL TRAVELING

Among high clouds
My dreams
Drift

Below
Let middle fingers
Salute the Dotard Trump

 

GATHER

We will never again
Wander together
Instead we rot
Gathered thousands
At the feet of Donald Trump

* * *

DESIRABLE OUTCOME

Our screams
If gathered
Will shake
Mt. Rushmore—
The Dotard Trump
Crushed beneath
Teddy’s nose.

THIS ELECTION YEAR

This election year
No more chicken
Nothing in your pot
Instead
This promise
A sentry box on this
And every corner

Some shiny freshly barbed
Barbed wire

And new, clean ropes
For each and everyone

(Though we know
With the last
Folks being folks
They’ll still complain)


*Based on the saying, “You’d complain if they hung you with a clean rope.”

Today’s LittleNip:

TRUMPIAN DIRECTION
—John Stickney

Once my boat
Drifted, drifted
Here to there

Now, with
The Volga Boatman’s
Hand on the tiller,
My direction is set.

__________________________

Greetings and thanks to John Stickney today! John is a poet/writer originally from Cleveland, Ohio, who currently resides in the coastal area of Wilmington, North Carolina. Welcome to the Kitchen, John, and don’t be a stranger!

__________________________

—Medusa

 —Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of John Stickney

Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.

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