Put it down, father said, so
We left it be, perched on the mantle,
Its eyes open wide, a slight
Curling smile on her lips
Too burnt to kiss, too normal
Not to.
The head flattened out, sea water
Dripping into the log fire,
Sister Sissy not amused, her own art
Ignored.
Mother sensed tension, but brushed the snaky
Hair fifty times anyway,
Each snap of static prompting
The dog to bark.
What do we do now?
She asked, her yawn wider, her eyes
Sleepy.
Leave it, said father,
No one touch it till morning.
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
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Not to"...Wow...Excellent eerie write in the spirit of the season. Enjoyed this much Larry.
Art is a very precious thing and is very personal.
Sandie Angel a.k.a. Sandie May Angel :o)