Zero Hour For Terror
life is but a dream…
A babble of specters speaking.
Chanting Lithuanian parrots
dangle alluringly toxic grapes,
but you breakfast on hyacinths
and suddenly turn cruel in April.
Seductively sleepy lidded women
grip you with invisible fangs
squeezing away any latent lust.
Your cat silently reads your will
licking his sharp, sodden chops.
The IRS sends you an inviting
prison manufactured Christmas card.
The car you can’t drive finds a
new owner on Craig’s List and
leaves you stranded and alone.
Unable to reach the grocery store,
your heart chokes on frozen burritos.
Your good cholesterol joins the plot,
turns bad, and conspires to murder.
Lowly earthworms dug for fishing
mutate into mumbling Blacks Mambas.
AARP find you and hounds you to rejoin
no matter how many times you move.
Your high-speed Internet connection
devolves into a slow, taunting swamp.
Your toenails just won’t shut up.
The sun rises suspiciously late.
You’ve lost your remote controls.
And you’ve only been awake an hour.
Could be a very long day.
