Francesca Bossert's Blog, page 36
July 10, 2024
SHALIMAR RISING
Stooped and shabbby she shuffles,
A widowed pensioner,
Buried knee, slipped disk,
Hand in hand with his walking stick,
Trundling food exchanged for coupons.
A bargain hunter.
A lovelorn cat companion.
By day she is Invisible.
But when darkness descends
She sheds her faded nightgown for silks and satins
Dripped in delight.
Salsa-hipped she shimmies,
Entices,
Temptress-eyed and red lipped,
A thrill-seeker,
A love thief.
By night she is still
Shalimar.
July 6, 2024
MARBLES
Image by Olivia Bossert
When my thoughts won’t collect,
When my bag of marbles rips,
I scatter into dark crevices
Where I huddle, discombobulated,
Unreachable.
Guilt yells at me.
My mind stutters.
Why is my WIFI unstable?
Smile by Maybelline?
Actually, it’s Lancôme;
I’m a snobby depressive.
July 2, 2024
FOSTER
Something about her
Still tongue-tied his thoughts,
Tossed his emotions into a mayhem of desire.
She hijacked his dreams with unspeakable truths,
Set his body ablaze through the ether,
Sentenced him to shuddering, shameful awakenings.
Unabashed,
She jammed his frequencies, sang along to his favourite songs,
Shimmied in the dusty notes of a stranger’s perfume.
Now, grief-weary, he caved.
Study.
Top shelf.
Third book from the right.
He reached for the leatherbound copy of War and Peace.
Her photograph tumbled to the ground.
He stooped, knees creaking.
Her smile. Shy but knowing.
He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans.
Holding his breath as, in half a second, decades rewound.
“Foster?” she said. “Is it really you?”
July 1, 2024
WHY NOT?
Flick the off switch on the radio,
Pull the plug on Spotify.
Stow away your favorite vinyls and just flopadob outside.
Why not shimmy with the willow,
Feel the poplar’s gentle sway?
Those cicadas have great rhythm,
And no one jams quite like the birds.
Bare your body to the sunshine,
Go skinny dipping if you dare!
Air your floppies and your flabbies,
Because, honestly, who cares!
June 30, 2024
WEATHER FORECAST
Meteorological vandals held riots last night.
Through lacerated skies they rode,
Wielding zapping zigzags.
Rabid, they rained and roared and screeched and hailstoned and stomped and flooded and shredded and crushed.
These Hell’s Angels behaving atrociously
Slid down mountains in mud,
Played shot put with boulders,
Got the Rhone so drunk it fell overboard,
Inspiring hundreds of copycat acts.
This place is a mess.
Whatever next…
June 29, 2024
AN EX-LOVER? A LONGTIME ADMIRER?A GUARDIAN ANGEL? DIVERSION (continued from REVENGE)
His pulse had warned himHours ago.Now she stood,Indignant in indigo,Mingling, dazzling,Romancing the slither of sapphiresConcealing her bruised heartWith a vermilion fingernail.Champagne and charm concealed her aqua gazeTrained on the doorway.She stepped forward.Suddenly, he knew.He slid from the barstool.Hurled insults and vodka ice down an unsuspecting cleavage.Pandemonium.She ran.He nursed a bloody nose.Closed his eyes.Exhaled relief.Once again, she was safe.
June 27, 2024
Empathy? Forgiveness?No. Just REVENGE
She didn’t move on.
Why should she?
Oh, she arranged her face in pleasant shapes,
Strung niceties on bubbles of champagne,
Lit her eyes with instasparkle.
She tickled high society with arias of giggles,
Concealing her bruised heart beneath a slither of sapphires,
Idly caressing the gems with a vermilion fingernail as she observed.
She mingled, regal,
Perfecting her alibi.
She smiled, teeth barred, as her former friend appeared in the doorway.
Her timing was perfect. She stepped forward.
No one would ever know.
June 26, 2024
WARM SMELL OF COLITIS…
There is a man I go and see,
Who’s a magician, if you ask me.
He’s funny too, a bit cheeky,
He always tells me, “don’t worry”.
This man’s a doctor, he’s Chinese,
I’ve seen him lots these past few years.
Of all the doctors I’ve approached,
He’s the one who’s helped the most.
Recently I’ve been quite sick
My intestines have been shit.
My disease is in a flair,
Warm smell of colitis in the air…
At a loss, I couldn’t eat,
Nothing stayed down; I felt so weak.
Doctor Dong said, “Don’t worry.
I’ll make you better, you will see.”
I must admit, I’d lost all faith,
I’d been careful with what I ate.
Dong stuck needles right and left,
In my feet, belly and head!
Then he gave me Chinese herbs,
Some brown powder like dried turds!
It wasn’t bad, I drank it fast,
And hallelujah, no more cak!
I’ve got to take it for two weeks,
Twice a day, before I eat.
Once again, Dong’s my main man,
I really am his biggest fan.
(n.b: thank you to Carolien Mann for inspiring the warm smell of colitis line! Brill!)
June 25, 2024
WEATHER FORECAST
Beware the false tranquility of this Azure extravaganza;
The elegant assassin rejoices in ideal hunting conditions.
Birds and mice, this is your final warning:
Her manicured claws are slicked with Lethal Opalescence.
Prepped to perfection,
She is summer body ready.
Take cover now.
I repeat:
Take cover now.
Extreme vigilance is the mot d’ordre
June 23, 2024
SEPIA SECRETS
She didn’t think of him,
He simply wandered in and out of her psyche,
A sensual trespasser
Laden with armfuls of ice-blue butterflies that he tossed like confetti.
She embraced their flutter,
Her mischievous smile tilted heavenwards
As they flirted with her skin,
Whispering sepia secrets.
