Junkyard Quotes 11-20

Junkyard Quotes (second half)

11) “I hate that cancer is a ‘fight’… but infertility is a ‘loss’ (postsecret)
12) “I can speak Canadian: Moose Moose Hockey Syrup Moose Moose”
13) transparent irises under inky, shallow secrets.
14) lesbians don’t scissor they sexy time wiggle
15) on this bar stool I can’t stay so I take my frown to a faraway town
16) I will live my life as a lobster man’s wife he will take care of me and smell like the sea
17) summer came like cinnamon so sweet
18) the circus is falling down on its knees
19) tread water and keep your head above the waves
20) a brain that felt like pancake batter

Workshops 1-3

Workshop1
“The Yellow Symposium’s Muse”

Plays cold and jams pearls
Into a hollow wooden womb with a plastic
Crimson and gold inlay of feasting
Hummingbirds to protect the
Scraping strums of metallic
Chords that blistered the fingers
Who knew so well that
Canary whose rainy murder would relentlessly
Etch and callous inspiration into
Tantalizing silent screams
Rhythmically clotting,
Begging him to share some whiskey or wine
and confess the yellow symposium’s muse.



Workshop 2
“The Narwhal’s Starfish”

He found it on the back of his hammerhead’s
impregnated blue-eyed Mako. She surrendered
it as a donation of October.
He brought it to its native shore and
persistently protected by puncturing
every predator. Then emerged the hybrid carnivore
and was adopted by the mighty mammals.
The narwhal forgot the starfish on the strange foreign
sands of the Gulf. It patiently lingered, awaiting
the mysterious comfort of its confident companion
to return with lionfish-like songs of sanguinity.
After half a decade of enduring strange sand and sunny
circumstances, the starfish dried and starved.
Its carcass now resides with the other foreigners
strung to clink in the wind next to the
city specific shot glasses.



Workshop 3
“Dissection”

Five years of regular research and persistent planning,
exploring and excavating exact environments,
anticipating that fully equipped harpoon on the
lobsterman’s Carina, to capture that damn
narwhal, the one who torments and punctures,
building and destroying natural habitats
engendering headaches with its constant
singing and bellowing,
begging to be severed wide open
and vulnerable, exposing his walloping
core, pleading to have his nuclear heart
surveyed and scrutinized for signs of malfunction.

Improv 51 (“Ape” Edson)

“Dad is Damn Sick of Eating Mom’s Cookies”

Mother bakes his favorite Oatmeal Raisin Chocolate Chip
every third Sunday before his bro-time
poker.

Father has exclaimed Oatmeal Raisin Chocolate Chip is no longer
his favorite sweet. He prefers Snickerdoodle.

Mother’s shade of lipstick has progressed from a coral to
bright open-fleshed red. Her perfume from honeyed sugar to
a sensual musk. 

Father’s poker games
have started to run later than usual after Mother has already
scrubbed away her potent spices and facial façade and then has
gone to bed.

Mother utters behind her pristine veneers a hiss of affections and
selfish poker puns.

Improv 50 (“Day Job and Night Job” Hudgins)

“Practice Practicality”

Get a job.

I have a job.

It doesn’t pay enough.
Get another job.

I have a job.
And I go to school full time.

You can get another job.
One that pays more.
And gives you more hours.

More hours away from creating
artwork and writing?

Yes, you will have plenty of time
to do those things when you
graduate and
get a big girl job.

Respect your elders.
They are wise.
They know what’s best for you
and your financial future.  

Improv 49 (“You, Doctor Martin” Sexton)

“Hypochondriac Queen”

She’s never had a pancake, a slice of pizza, or an apple.
She’s sixteen and has approximately twenty-three seizures a day,
where she can only sit, paralyzed, and blankly stare directly in front of her.
He had to save her by moving in, and attending all of her MRI’s, heart exams,
and brain assessments.
He had been extracted like an eagle egg knocked from the nest
by a snake, who only wanted to suck it dry and leave the shell.

Then she was immediately pregnant.
He requested evidence.
Ten minutes later she miscarried.
He decided to carry his vertebral casing away from her regal rubbish. 

Improv 48 (“Degrees of Gray in Philipsburg” Hugo)

“’Hatred of The Various Grays’”

Gray and Beige,
Beige and Gray,
Bare naked and new cubicles
Hallways of prisons and schools
These are not tints,
These are somber neutrals
Meant as a primer for post-mistakes
They are not calm and cool paint swatches
That is for the Monet’s Lilies and Aqua Breezes
They are not stimulating or motivating
Like Lantanas or Pumpkin Toast
If you’re going to go flat and gray,
or bland and beige
adding a smudge of hue will level it up
to a chromatic gray, that expresses
close to something rather than nothing. 

Improv 47 (“Clear Night” C. Wright)

“’Bird Hush and Bird Song’”

Green emerald glazed hands
welded for giving and getting
displayed on the trunk of the palm
holds seedling snacks for those singing
twitchy necked definitions of freedom.

He hung the slip-casted weapons to
snooze the crude cheeping at dawn and
gun-down that provoking raucous.

Now, only the rooster crows, but
his internal clock is armed for
Eastern Standard Time.