By Merry Speece
The sad man irons.
He awaits that Hawkins female Sadie, irons her sateen undies. Over and
Gregor Samsa, meet Sam Houston.
And now a matching pair, stole and camisole, of madder lake. Camisole, in
Irons the thumbs of mittens.
Back in his band’s glory days, he played jazz banjo. Played jazz banjo to
Now in the latter days of Pompey. Mirandize. Mirandize the villagers. Out
Celibate as a lay pope’s own doo-dad.
Irons and irons the king-bed sheets while on the big screen, baseball,
But then Sadie along the roadside with her sign: Will Dream for Sex.
For her birthday one year he gave raspberry Snickelfritz homemade soap and a rubber nun (cat-and-bathtub toy) so that night S.ended up, in her own words, Snicklefritz squeaky nun clean.
He would love now to give her her very own Joseph Cornell love box:
If only she’d come back.
Our ironing man takes a bathroom break. Ahhh. The Madhi in samadhi.
Mankind! Dude Love!
No one draws heat like the Iron Sheik.
Flushes, checks his navel. The sorry born-on date of his tire.
And he must remember to check the online instructions for the polite way to
Coming up in our next half hour: weaponized brucellosis. What would Emily
To iron a bride’s stiff dress shields on her big day. And her dress, old
STATE WILD PIG POPULATION EXPLODES. “I’ve got a special place in my heart for feral pigs”. Headline, Valentine.
Was he to be forever her gegenschein – or gegenschwein?
A woman with a plan (and a canal and Panama). Fuck the palindrome.
What the President calls the whim of a hat – iron that!
On and on, the pieces’ newsless softness.
But then: Man opens fire in fireworks display.
Darling, the cellist, plays the coda to the microtones of the Wulu Bunum in
Change: the fishing channel.
Poke boat and a pink canoe.
All the things you do that you shouldn’t do in a see-through canoe.
That pleasure-seeking device, her laptop, leaves her thighs rosy.
Another flashback: pasted on the curves of the doily heart she mailed him
He turns his head to watch out the window a line of schoolgirls – or are
Essence of raspberry and player piano. Slow gizz finn.
Girl chivalry (the way Sade always said): “Nice pants.”
Yes, and what’s in a man’s pants, what we call vogelgesang.
Irons his light pants and goes out for today’s eclipse.
Merry Speece has published two chapbooks of poetry and been a recipient of a state arts commission fellowship in prose. Her Sisters Grimke Book of
Photo courtesy of Freeimages.co.uk.
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