Spitball Fury

    by Rawclyde!                                                                                                             ~

The small sphere

Hurls Ghost Face

Deeply into space

~

“Where did she go?”

He grits as the metal ball spins

Over Hong Kong

~

There’s so much space out here

His eyeballs

spin too

~

And his head flies off

Knocks around

Seeking a way out

~

His body goes thru a

Transformation

From weak to weaker

~

Slows down to such a degree that

His cantankerous head decides to sneak back onto

The top of his neck

~

Ghost Face secures it there

With a few pieces of duck tape

Leans on the stick

~

The spitball burps

farts &

Speeds forth

~

(Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2016)

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In Heaven with Diana (part two)

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So here stand Diana and I holding hands in the living room on Sunday morning.  Our house is not on planet Earth.  Our house is in Heaven.  And our honeymoon is endless.

“Now, baby, now,” whimper I to my Diana.  She’s my beautiful wife.  And I am so lucky ~ oops, I mean blessed!  I say to her, “You gotta put on a dress if we’re going to Church today.”

“We’re in Heaven, Clyde,” says Diana.  “We can go to Church naked if we want.”  I almost believe her.  The way she is holding my hand, the way the green green grass of home ricochets in her eyes, the way her sacred body emits its glow and warmth ~ all this, everything in the universe, tells me to believe her.

My knees are more and more wobbly.  I have a bottomless craving to kneel before we even get to Church.  Jesus please have mercy on my soul.  I want to kneel in front of my wife!  “C’mon, Diana, please.  Please go put on a dress.  We’re going to be late.”

I am dressed swank ~ really swank.  I’m even wearing my grey top hat.  I am ready for Church.  But Diana ~ my long legged, green eye-ed darling…

“Why? Why, Diana?  Why are you doing this?”

She’s not totally naked.  She’s got the pelt of a raccoon draped over her head.  Something her Uncle Davy gave her.  It’s paws hang down to either side a bit past her neck, intimate pals with her gold-streaked hair.  If they hung down any further their claws would be resting upon her delightfully elongated boom booms.  She shrugs in reply to my exasperated questioning.  And my wife says, “I am a forest priestess.  What do you expect?  Look into my eyes.”  She steps closer than she already is and, with her breezy breath fanning my inflamed face, whispers, “Look deep.”

The head of the raccoon pelt, its nose sticking out a little over Diana’s forehead, its little marble eyes staring off into space, is perched up there like a baseball cap.  But forget that furry thing!

I lose myself in Diana’s cathedral windows.  A point-blank reflection of Heaven is in there.  She let’s go my hand and her fingernails etch a trail up my sleeve.  She rests the fingertips of her magic hands on the tops of my ears.  Like I’m a steering wheel.

I kneel.

~ by Rawclyde!

~

art courtesy of:

http://krystleyez.com

~

In Heaven with Diana (part one)

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She's got a new hat...

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Here in Heaven it is Sunday morning and time to go to Church.  The front door is open.  Outside the birds are chirping and the bells are ringing.  I am wearing my grey top hat and dressed swank on the edge of the couch ~ waiting for Diana.  We’ve been married for about half a year.  It’s absolutely ridiculous how happy we are.

She twirls into the living room and stands in front of me.  She loves to stand in front of me when I’m sitting down ~ especially when she’s naked.  I love it too because she’s beautiful and she’s my wife.  But why is she naked now?  And what is that on top of her head?

“I’m ready,” she says.

“You’re naked,” says I.  “How can you be ready when you’re naked?”  I’m looking up at her pretty startled.  The contraption draped over her head has eyes and claws and lots of fur.  It looks like the skin of a wild raccoon.  “And what’s that on top of your head?”

“Uncle Davy gave me this.  C’mon.  Let’s go.”  She lifts my hand in her very warm one and in her gentle way pulls me up off the couch and toward the door.

“Hold it!” I protest as I abruptly stop in my tracks.  I shut the door, accidentally slamming it.  Obviously I’m losing my cool and on the verge of causing a scene, which doesn’t really matter because we’re home alone.  We’re still holding hands.

Thank God we’re holding hands.  But are we going to make it to Church this morning?  Diana’s point-blank emerald eyes are killing me.  She raises one smooth shoulder like it is the “good morning” sun ~ a few inches from my chin.  Meanwhile my knees are beginning to wobble and I am on the verge of kneeling before we even get to Church!

Jesus Christ have mercy…

~ Rawclyde!

~~~

Photo courtesy of Fashion Tadpole:

http://fashiontadpole.blogspot.com/2010/04/davy-crockett.html

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