Merry

I'm just a Black-and-White Barbie,

You Know.

A Black-And-White Barbie!

That's the case and what-it-is.

Don't stress, sweetie.

It's gonna all be there in the morning.

You got two dollars so I can catch a train to the airport?

I left my shoes and I can't go to the ball.

Now what am I to do?

I'm a damsel-in-distress.

Can you help your lady-love?

All I need is $3.25 to get the bus.

I know you love me and one day you're gonna show me how much.

Don't stress, honey!

It's only 5 dollars.

You can make Black and White Barbie's dreams come true.

Sweet dreams.

Coming true.

Entertainment Tonightly

Flipper's Dad: 
he got rich from a car-wreck 
Left him half-paralyzed.  
Left.

Can you imagine the embarrassment?  
Strangers in the home 
a pay-per-view of oak-leaf and acorn 
hand-carved wood paneling 
that trust no longer affords to keep dry?  
The marble-top end-tables 
and asbestos-lace gilt 
don't stop it.
That kind of heat warps 
everything under the porticoes.

  
Reaking of cat-chow, 
and not the fancy kind, 
he grinned and leaned in to my shoulder, 
a hot vaporizing mouth pressing my ear. 
"Caesar," he said. 
And I felt the sharpened belly touch my skin.
Chihuahuas.

How do you watch The Beatles for free?  
Just like you were there and invited.  
Mike was definitely 
their favorite Monkee.  
Don't tell the others. 

 
Up on the roof, 
sucking Coca-cola-flavored cigarettes, 
they see it's only a couple commas difference 
if you're Willi-with-a-compass 
or patched-up pyro victim Matthew Star 
waving sweet black voodoo whitewash space magic 
and it's all in the marketing, anyhow.

He had to quit the love machine.

Letter to Jane

Dearest Queen Jane Parres of Moondance Farm,

With your departure from those currently living on planet Earth, I'd like to send you my congratulations on your completion of this part of your trip.  

You never know what can happen next, but I presume you won't be repeating this voyage in this particular vessel that we all loved so much.  I do feel a bit empty when I long for your company, but I feel very happy and grateful when I think of our time together.  I will try to pass on to others the love and compassion that you always showed to those of us who were lucky enough to have met you.

In the words of Grace Slick, who is not just a donkey:

"Life is change.
How it differs from the rocks.
I've seen their ways too often for my liking.
New worlds to gain.
My life is to survive and be alive for you."

Sincerely,

Dale Ashauer

Who is also probably dead by the time someone finds this message.

October 16, 2021
Moondance Farm

Carrolling in A Dark Wonderland

The walrus rolled up the beach away from the waves. He took the last little oyster with him, she laughing hysterically all the way. She didn't care for the sushi, but she'd found a gold tooth in a piece of caramel the last time they'd visited so it was her favorite place to eat. The sun agreed to talk and the moon smiled, flashing a rainbow ring off her chipped front tooth. 

"Someone removed our lungs before we were born," the carpenter yelled at the sea. He focused on the cracks in the low-sitting stone; each mapped an artery that had been naturally cauterized. Glowing metal poles sizzled fresh tomato skin cracked cups and pine cones. The evening breeze whistled a chewed-gum occlusion on tall trees for recently-departed leafless neighbors.

And time ended. Now was then and only past whatever was before tomorrow. It was meaningless and pointless to eulogize. A couple of football players from Florida and a local college girl blindfolded themselves and sped off across the waves in their flashy cabin cruiser in search of the famous sea captain's tambourine fireside jamboree. 

The carpenter took a deep breath and downed another bottle of pavement coating to smooth the rough surface and continued to stare down the cracks in the rock. The stuff tasted like fire and made it difficult to focus his eyes, but once aligned he felt as though he possessed an almost microscopic vision. As he'd gradually lose focus, his eyes would cross until he wasn't really sure where he was looking until he took the next drink. The sun headed off for tomorrow and the moon raised a suspicious right eyebrow.

He duly noted that everything about the rock was a chemical reaction searching for neutrality. He thought about Jesus, The Devil, and the red-haired girl who knew so much about both. Hounds screamed his name from the inferno and he whispered to her, "I know they can hear me."

Black and white lines reflected from the grinning moon and painted the hypoxic sand where he sat, removing the comfort of gray from everything in his view. - DA 

The time will come (the little Queen said) when we will  talk of many things...
Of music, dancing, happy pasts and what the future brings ~

Jane Parres

LISTEN:  https://www.poetryfoundation.org/play/77052

That Old Car

I see you rolling up to the stop sign and I know
You should be retired by now,
probably poor or frugally delusional and desperate.
Your paint fades in records of weather maps
past decades and slight mishaps
blind spots and small garages.
You lean to the side from years of single driving
Groceries, Bible study and church.
Maybe a birthday party or wedding
making you wish you were young and bothered.
The dent on your front passenger quarter
Those sneaky little parking posts that are too damn small to see.
Still, clean as hospital room inside and out
And not many miles for a gal of your age.

Maybe you are one last gift
passed on by others who were first in line
or one more attempt to help that screwed-up son-of-a-bitch
get his life out of the ditch and headed in the right direction.
First night together left you with a cracked grill
and that feeling that you'd never stop shaking every time you moved.
No good mechanics left in a town that lost its churches and bar.
Roll around the country roads getting high
Thinking of your Grandmother and avoiding highways,
looking for someone to love or punish.

Courtesy of Piker Press
Published June 2020
Article © Dale Ashauer. All rights reserved.
Published on 2020-06-22