Happy Holidays!

Lester the Jester threw up his supper,                                                   emerging instead as a fool named Skupper                                                  who gagged on his guts as they spilled from his gob                                      expelling another named Bob,                                                                             who horked up a loogie of phlegm and bile,                                                        appearing at last as a Jester named Lyle                                                               who stuck out his tongue and said with a leer                                             “Happy Christmas to all and a Merry New Year.”

 

Santa Claws

***I found this in one of John the illustrator’s discard files while looking for images to attach to my wonderful flash-stories.  I absolutely love it.  It will be perfect for this week’s post – the last week before Christmas, there’s just something a little ‘off’ about this one, though…I just can’t put my finger on it…  Oh well,  Merry Christmas everybody!!!…go to our site and buy our books.   -Marsha

Faith, in Brand Name Products

The worms had invested several generations in this project.  They were steadfast and intrepid.  It took months to meticulously scour every inch of the box to find flaws in the smooth laminate – the tiniest gaps in the seal – then year upon year of boring , rotting and tunneling through hard woods and glues.  They had never met Faith…had no idea what kind of person she was, but from the quality of her box, they trusted that she had taste…was tasteful.  (Tasty?)

The worms celebrated their first breakthrough as a holiday.  It was a momentous achievement.  A pauper’s box was easy to tap but was quickly overrun by poachers, a rich person’s box, though a major endeavor, was a rich prize.  The worms took time to reflect and remember their forebears who began this campaign with such hope and ambition.  It was good to be a worm and sure to get better…

…But, when they finally breached Faith’s inner cavern, they were appalled at the stench.  It wasn’t the tasteful (rotten) odor of a well fed, well groomed lady, whose conquest would fill their bellies as much as their pride, it was the vile reek of toxins…death to worms.  They found Faith, in brand name products.

She was slathered in chemical cosmetics, pumped full of formaldehyde, lead and mercury and her flesh, saturated with food additives and preservatives.  She had fake hair, fake nails, fake boobs, lips and joints.  She looked as perfectly pickled now as the day she was buried…but for the worms, Faith was completely inedible.  Disconsolate and defeated, they turned away wondering what the modern world was coming to.

***Some would qualify Faith, with all her enhancements, as a “cyborg” (how exciting!).  However, the products which enhanced her beauty also shortened her life.  Oh, but never mind that!  I’m sure she’s been looking up at her corpse this past decade, quite proud of its everlasting glamour.  As to the worms, I’m afraid there isn’t much hope.  Perseverance and integrity don’t count for much any more.  Meanwhile, today’s graveyards are tomorrow’s superfund sites.  This image is published in our new book, “Bludgeon the Clown” as the ‘Chapter 6: Death’ page illo.  It was originally our 21st post from Feb., 2016.  Good luck Christmas shopping…try not to poison your children.  -Marsha  

 

Labyrinth

      His dreams were frantic.  She was always just out-of-reach and each time he caught a glimpse, she was further away than before as he chased her through the labyrinth of his anxiety.  He KNEW he was only dreaming…  he KNEW she lay right next to him, asleep…but he could neither escape any more than catch up to her.  And as his heart broke apart and crumbled to pieces for the one he had loved unconditionally, he realized that these pathetic dreams were better than his reality.  This was all he had left, so he relished in the chase each night…..for just one more night…and tried to remember all the good things they’d had for a few precious moments more…before she faded completely, leaving him alone in the labyrinth.

***My poor friend Balthazar lost his cat recently…well, she’s not missing – we’re not out searching or anything – I mean, he had a falling out with his precious Miss Fuzzy Britches a few weeks ago and hasn’t been able to patch things up.  I wrote this little piece for them…though I don’t hold out much hope.  Meanwhile, our new book is out; “Bludgeon the Clown.”  It’s beautiful and awful and available by following the link at the top/right to our site;  www.sallemander.com .  -Marsha