A Childhood Triptych

Gaius Octavius “Auggie” Jones is the son of a nouveau riche Classics professor. His father raised him on a strict diet of The Great Books of the Western World, the pedagogical practices of James Mill, and the enigmatic Zen-like musings of his nursemaid Akiko. Because of this, Auggie did not view his first Looney Tunes cartoon until the age of twenty-five. This proved to be the most cataclysmic event in his hitherto regulated life. His poetry is filled with a longing for the simple pleasures of a childhood he never knew.

Ode to a Grilled Cheese Sandwich

Laudabunt alii Placentam Neapolitanam
aut hillam calentem or other snack
But I renounce such pedestrian pabulum
In favor of a delight with a certain knack
For tantalizing my palate with flavor profound.
Others may shell out copious amounts
For obese hamburgers grilled and round
Or an ice cream sundae topped beyond count
With saccharum in its multitudinous forms,
But I know where true epicurean heaven lies.
Let the angels shout loud as Zeus’ storms
Each syllable of its name in orgasmic cries:
グ リ ル ド チ ー ズ サ ン ド イ ッ チ
Toasted crisp and brown in its bath of butter
With a form surpassing the designs of Da Vinci,
I live for the next grilled cheese, the fatter the better.
As American cheese, that caseus Cæsaris carus,
Oozes from between the bosom of the bread,
And I slowly draw my knife down diagonalibus,
My heart palpitates and I begin to lose my head.
Others may try to dress you in bacon and tomato,
But I cannot see you in such whorish trappings.
Replacing your innards with gouda I cannot swallow,
I desire you plain and unadorned, dripping
With your sweet simple flavors. Sandwich fine!
May your cheesy goodness always be mine!

Futility

I
stack
the wooden
cubes higher and
higher, my Turmbau zu
Babel. A mighty verticality of
linguistic nonsense emerges as the
animals, uncomfortable with the new heights
they’re reaching, shift around nervously within the
squares. The numbered sides laugh as the base of my solitary
Jenga forgets balance momentarily, and my hopes and dreams tumble
about my feet. A single tear falls into the etched grooves of the overturned C.

Show Biz Bugs: Or The Death of Socrates Redux

ἦθος – The unrecognized star of the show is second fiddle to a false hare.
διάνοια – The fickleness of the audience and fleeting nature of fame are laid bare.
μέλος – “Jeepers Creepers, where’d ya get those peepers?”
μίμησις – Two halves of a duck are grateful Blue Cross makes things cheaper.
μῦθος – One-up-manship and murder attempts fail to harvest the seed of recognition sowed….
ὄψις – “A generous portion of gasoline, then some nitroglycerin, a goodly amount of gunpowder, some uranium 238, shake well, strike an ordinary match… swallow the match so…”
περιπέτεια – How they love it! The audience has been won over.
ἀναγνώρισις – The thunderous, escalating applause demands an encore.
ἁμαρτία – Our hero’s soul departs from this plane of existence.
λέξις – “I know, I know, but I can only do it once.”
κάθαρσις – With tears in our eyes and laughter in our hearts,
We are glad our master is beloved, however much it smarts.