My first attempt at writing poetry, and I get this silly thing.
|Two Things Too Many|
One rainy day on a rarified day off-ey
I was sittin', drinkin' my morning coffee.
One cup drained , one more still to go,
Peace was annihilated, don't ya' know.
The phone went a'ring-ringy,
At the door, a'knock-knocky.
I screamed at the wifey, "Git that, Flo!"
She yelled back, "Can't! I'm in the tub.
Git off yer fried chicken butt, ya' toothless grub."
I picked up the phone and said, "Halloo?"
Cuz I like to sound royal, not from Timbuktoo.
While heftin' myseff up, bones achey-achey,
Heavy breathing in m'ear, all Darth Vadery.
I hollered at the wifey, "It's yer cousin, Mildrew."
She screeched back, "And who's at the door?"
"Grip a tiny Buddha, woman, or I'll give ya' what-for."
I ain't as young as I used to be,
Blowing bubbles with scuffed up knees
Or chasin' Flo like the last butterfly,
just memories now of days gone by.
Best days behind me, just an ole dog with fleas.
Scuffing down the hall, my bones a'creakin',
Me in my boxer shorts, wife beater a'stinkin'.
"Mildrew," I said, "hold on to yer copper penny.
Two things at once is just two things too many."
Flinging open the door, "Whaddaya be wantin'?"
A little green creature, laser gun a'pointin'.
"Geez, Flo, what this guy's sellin', we don't want any!"
Your character is enjoying a second cup of coffee on a rare day off, the phone rings at the same time there is a knock at the door. What happens next? Write the STORY OR POEM from that point, and include the following (in any order but bolded):
a tiny Buddha
the last butterfly