Three Poems

                                         Ashley Bell

 

Pouncey Tract

Isn’t it pouncey?

 
Yes sufficiently so

 
It’s sweet and pouncey and full of spring

 
This would appear to be the case

 
Isn’t it the pounceyest thing you ever saw?!

 
In context, I suppose it is

 
Round and grumpy and extra pouncey

 
Hmm

 
Pouncey around the house. Pouncey out of doors

 
A general attitude of pounce. Acceptable

 
Double pouncey on the bounce of a trampoline

 
Possible overkill. Under advisement

 
Extra sweet. Pounce. Extra treat. Pounce.

 
Yes

 
Pounce the sofa?

 
I’ve seen worse

 
Can it pounce after dark?

 
No

 
Does it pounce after dark?

 
Unverifiable

 
Pouncey the tummy rub? Pouncey the num num?

 
Not entirely out of the question

 
Pouncey soft?

 
Likely, given the circumstances

 
Pouncey like a brick on fire!

 
Not recommended

 
It pounced and spilled the duchesses milk ALL over the rug

 
Not entirely untrue

 
It pounces on the moon when we’re asleep

 
So I’ve been told

 
Good night Pounce

 
Hmm

 

Bumbershoot

Bumbershoot
Pop
East West Bumbershoot
Pop
Pop the North
Pop the South
Morning Glories Black turned down
Eat heat from subway vents
Where
Boys and girls
Pop Bumbershoots
Their folded flowers
Clack in and out revolving doors

 

your call is important to us

Brenda my Brenda how spare the words?
The dewy thorn of honeyed tongue
Beneath which sleeping hand resides. Awake!
Awake my Brenda!
For thy breath yet coiled throughout the ear resounds!
“How nature’s firm repose denies
The bloom from which the violet sings
Of autumn’s death and spring’s reprise
The wing’d Mercury replies:"

This call may be monitored for quality assurance purposes only
If you know the extension of the party you wish to reach
Please dial it now
Otherwise stay on the line
And a representative will be with you shortly

Sweet grief in mockery doth make
Euterpe play upon the lute
Smooth jazz with which I am to wait for Brenda
Dear Brenda.
Thus Adam’s joy renounced
Has found
Odysseus
Unbound and drowned
Smooth jazz

This call may be monitored for quality assurance purposes only
If you know the extension of the party you wish to reach
Please dial it now
Otherwise stay on the line
And a representative will be with you shortly

Epilogue

Sons of Adam! Render unto the king that which is rightfully His, lest ye be foul as vinegar upon His sweet lips!.


How wise in silence
How welcome the sheath to the blade
The absence speaks your name

 

Ashley Bell lives and works in Richmond, Va.  He is a writer of prose fiction; an artist, and composer.  These are his first published poems.   

Website:  That Formidable Urge.