Day 154

Today's words:

Pilot
Moon
Mind
Guilt
Souvenir
Candle

The pilot
Navigated by the moon.
It was second nature. His mind,
Meanwhile, was consumed by guilt.
The souvenir
Of what he'd done weighed on him. He'd light a candle

When they landed. The candle
Flame would act as a pilot
Light to guide the souvenir
To the moon
And release the guilt
From his mind.

"I don't mind
"If you think a candle
"Will ease your guilt,"
She said to the pilot.
"But every time I look at the moon
"I'll remember what you did. It's an ugly souvenir."

And just as a souvenir
Can overtake a mind,
The moon
Can obscure a candle
Flame. The pilot
Light can be blown out by guilt.

Guilt,
Creating its own souvenir,
Can act as a pilot,
Steering the mind
Wherever it wants, past the candle,
All the way to the moon.

The moon
Light is the color of guilt,
And the candle
Flame its souvenir,
Pay it no mind;
Just pilot

Your ship in the moon-lit souvenir
Of the guilt in your mind,
And trust the candle as your pilot.

Day 153

Today's words:

Monkey
Bullet
Ravioli
Knife
Trophy
Runway

"Laugh all you want, but that monkey
"Would take a bullet
"For you." "What crap," she thought, cutting the ravioli
With a knife.
"This is no trophy-
"Winning dialogue to be sure. Best stick to runway

"Modelling. At least on the runway
"I won't have a monkey
"As a sidekick. I'll surely not get a best actress trophy
"For a line like that - 'take a bullet'
"My arse." She plunged her knife
Into the ravioli.

Eating ravioli
Wasn't good for her runway
Model's figure, she knew, but used her knife
On the pasta anyway. Better than worrying about a monkey
With a bullet.
She looked towards her trophy

Case. There was a trophy
Her mother had won for best ravioli.
But she'd fled that world like a bullet
From a gun, towards the runway.
She didn't want to wind up a performing monkey
Or a knife-

Wielding assassin, although her knife-
Throwing skills had won her another trophy
Once. "Screw them all," she thought, "Screw the monkey,
"The ravioli,
"The runway,
"And the bullet."

Which would you choose, a bullet
Or a knife?
Strolling down the runway,
Trophy
In hand, she wanted her mother's ravioli.
So, yeah, she'd take the part with the monkey

Taking a bullet. Maybe it wouldn't earn her a trophy
But she could still use her knife on the ravioli.
Goodbye, runway; hello, monkey.

Day 152

Today's words:

Traffic light
Cocktail
Knife
Doctrine
Parliament
Fairy

The traffic light
Turned red and he slammed on the brakes. He wanted a cocktail
So bad it felt like he was being stabbed with a knife.
This no drinking doctrine
Was killing him. He lit up a Parliament - 
At least he could still smoke. He wished a good fairy

Would make it OK to drink.  He wanted a visit from the Alcohol Fairy.
The traffic light
Turned green and he drew on his Parliament
Wishing it were a cocktail.
He'd like to stab whoever invented this doctrine
With a knife.

Next, he'd take a knife
To whatever evil fairy
Had cursed him to follow this doctrine.
His life was like a traffic light
Stuck on red, meaning no cocktail,
Ever. He'd like the parliament

To pass a law. The parliament
Should make drinking mandatory. You could knife
Anyone who refused you a cocktail.
Some evil fairy
Must have been controlling the traffic light - 
It turned red, stranding him outside a bar. The doctrine

Wasn't helping him now. Screw the doctrine, 
And screw this Parliament.
The traffic light
Turned green, but he made a knife-
Edge turn into the parking lot instead. Maybe a good fairy
In there would pour him a cocktail.

What's one cocktail
Anyway? He was sure the other followers of the doctrine
Wouldn't even care. He saw his fairy
There behind the bar, as he stubbed out the Parliament
And went in. His thirst was a knife
And the neon flashed traffic light

Colors. He sipped his cocktail and lit another Parliament.
He thought of cutting the doctrine out with a knife.
He smiled at the drink fairy and gazed out at the traffic light.

Day 151

Today's words:

Hail
Crown
Olive
Reward
Leaf
Necklace

All hail
The conquering hero, wearing a crown
Of olive
Vines.  His reward
For turning over a new leaf
And returning the necklace

He stole. He ripped the necklace
Off the girl's neck in the middle of a hail
Storm. Now the leaf
Of the branch on his crown
Glimmers like a reward,
Smooth as an olive.

The gold nugget was shaped like an olive
On the necklace
He stole and returned for a reward.
Now we hail
Him and place a crown
Of gold leaf

On his head. The leaf
Of the olive
Tree makes up the crown,
And the necklace
Is worn by its rightful owner after the hail
Of the reward.

What kind of a reward
Is it to have a leaf
Withstand a hail
Storm? The olive-
Shaped gold charm on the necklace
Is more valuable than the crown

We made him, a crown
As his reward
For returning the necklace.
It's gold leaf
And olive
Branch, but we hail

This crown, and bow before the leaf;
It's his reward for returning the olive-
Shaped charm and the necklace. All hail!

Day 150

Today's words:

Tie
Help
Scallop
Microphone
Ambiguous
Sunset

She fussed with my tie.
"You really need help
"With this," she chided. The edge had a scallop
On it that made it difficult. The singer crooned into the microphone,
Something about an ambiguous
Sunset.

Whatever that meant. To me a sunset
Is pretty straightforward. Now my tie
Could be said to be ambiguous -
Maybe that's why I needed help
With it. Now the microphone
Singer was saying something about a scallop

On the edge of the shore.  I think I'll enjoy a scallop
Crudo at sunset,
With the microphone
Turned off. It's a tie
Among the help
As to who is the most ambiguous,

Sexually speaking.  Certainly ambiguous
In this fashion is a scallop,
I believe - can't they change sex at will? Or not - I need help
Remembering the biology I learned in school in the sunset
Of my years as I was now. Perhaps I'll just tie
Myself to the microphone.

I'll rant into the microphone
About how ambiguous
Everything is these days. It's a tie
As to whether the lobster or the scallop
Will go into the sunset
First. Certainly we've been of no help

To either. Help
Me turn this microphone
Off. I don't want to spend this sunset
Broadcasting my thoughts, when there's an ambiguous
Scallop
To be eaten and my tie

Needs help, as do I; I'm not ambiguous
On that point. I don't need a microphone to call for a scallop
Crudo in this sunset race to a tie.

Day 149

Today's words:

Price
Vowel
Dish
Hobby
Entrance
Crash

She was watching Wheel of Fortune, as usual. The price
For a vowel
Was ridiculous. But why dish
About her hobby?
I'll make a grand entrance
Elsewhere, or I'll crash.

After the crash
The price
Of real estate went down for a while.  Still, an entrance
Into this market was tough. "I'd like to buy a vowel,"
Won't cut it, and it's a very expensive hobby.
Have you tried the new dish

At Nobu? It's a dish
That would never have existed before the crash.
It costs a fortune, but that's the hobby
Of the 1%; paying a price
For trifles that wouldn't be worth a vowel
In most places. But in order to properly make an entrance

You need to pay. The entrance
Fee alone is more than you can imagine, and the cost of a dish
Is just plain nuts. So she got her vowel,
Before the crash,
And guessed the phrase. Now it's time for The Price
Is Right. Game shows - that's her hobby.

I guess it's better than shopping at Hobby Lobby.
I'll never make an entrance
There, regardless of the price
Of their crap.  I'll take their dish
And crash
It to the ground, while screaming a vowel.

And what's the use of a vowel
If you don't have a hobby?
You can crash
Your car into the entrance,
Or bring a covered dish
To supper. A gift at any price.

So I painted over the vowel at the entrance,
So Hobby became Hubby. He's a dish
Who'll crash regardless of the price.

Day 148

Today's words:

Divorce
Skin
Colony
Cheese
Winner
Genius

"My divorce
Is final tomorrow," she said. Her skin
Was almond-colored. We were in a former French colony,
Eating cheese sandwiches. "I feel like a winner,"
She said,"Even though it doesn't take a genius

"To see I'm not. If I were a genius
"I wouldn't be getting this divorce -
"I'd really be a winner,
"And never have married at all." Her skin
Was beautiful, but I tried not to look and concentrated on my cheese
Sandwich. Life in this former colony

Was weird. Majestic buildings constructed when it was a colony
Sat next to run-down huts. Maybe a genius 
Could have improved things, but for now we just ate our cheese
And talked about divorce.
I didn't have too much skin
In this game. I was leaving soon. I wanted to come out a winner.

In a way this country hadn't been a winner
When it became independent  - no longer a colony,
But no more French money either. Most people had skin
The color of café au lait. It didn't take a genius
To tell they were mixed. But the divorce
From France meant more than just an increase in the price of cheese.

Even though it was imported from France, the cheese
Used to cost not much more than in France. The winner
Now was the producers; the divorce
Allowed them to charge higher prices, as it was no longer a colony
And therefore a free market. "Genius!"
They thought, "We'll skin

"Them alive!" Their own white skin
Was the color of some cheese.
If I were a genius
I would find a way for everyone to be a winner,
France and its former colony,
Even after the divorce.

So the color of one's skin can make one a winner
Or a loser. It's just hard cheese, the fate of this colony,
And only a genius can make a success of a divorce.