I know I’ve mentioned this piece maybe half a dozen times over the past couple years, and I promise (barring a Nobel Prize, or something like that) not to mention it again after this post.
Originally published in the inaugural issue of AND/OR (PDF in November 2010; Print in December), the poem has now been anthologized in Ekphrastia Gone Wild from Ain’t Got No Press. I just received my freebie copy today and am simultaneously honored to be included and awed by the high quality of the poem’s book-mates. You should definitely consider purchasing a copy.
I Got Yer “Grumpy” Right Here, Pal
I guess you’d be pretty grumpy, too
if you shared a crackerbox cottage
with six other chirpy little bastards,
up every day at the crack of dawn
with a merry Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho on their
lips, off to work after nothing but
a meager bowl of gruel, carrying
pickaxes and a box of dynamite,
leaving behind such a rare beauty,
a fair-skinned brown-eyed princess
to sweep up after them, make up
their beds, wash out their nasty
sheets, no one keeping her company
but a bunch of dopey bluebirds.
What a waste.
. . And speaking of
dopey, let me just say a few words
about a couple of the schmucks
I work with:
. . I busted a thumb
about a month ago and found out
Doc’s not much of a real doc; and
I don’t know what it is that keeps
that nitwit Sleepy nodding all day
or Happy so friggin happy, but
sooner or later there’s bound to be
a cave-in and, frankly, I’ll be glad
for the time off.
. . Maybe then I’d
get to hang around the house,
see if the princess comes across
with a little TLC. Now, that might
improve my attitude some, eh?
Go away now, you’re buggin me.