Francesca Bossert's Blog, page 39
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.
June 22, 2024
SPELLBOUND
She wakes,
Knowing the thrill of him
Will dance forever on her heartbeat
Whenever she recalls
His navy gaze,
Ablaze,
Once upon a night
Under a disco moon.
She smiles,
Knowing he is spellbound.
June 19, 2024
STILL
He taps her shoulder,
Ice-blue into Emerald.
Her chest flutters,
Cheeks like coral carnations.
Thoughts dart through sliding doors,
Caressing what ifs.
Heat simmers, fanned by shimmering silences.
Ice-blue into Emerald.
He smoulders.
She shivers.
They wonder,
Still.
HYPOCRITES
When people act like righteous shits
Pass on the blame and act like gits,
Their conscience isn’t squeaky clean,
They know they’re wrong, that’s why they’re mean.
The high horses those twits are on
Will buck them off, horses aren’t dumb!
So take a breath, ignore their crap,
When you get home have a nice bath.
Now that you know they’re hypocrites
You won’t be such an altruist.
So do your thing with your head high,
They know damn well they’re telling lies.
