Ritalin-Induced Coma
Pink shadow puppets scorch the ceiling
as candy wrappers fall in droplets from my eyes,
sugar frosted footballs in my cereal bowl.
M.C. Hammer can’t touch this reindeer game
without tucking in peaches with electric blue blankets.
Monkeys shoot ladders into my ears,
while bubbles cry inside my medulla oblongata.
Cream puffs streak by with hummingbird wings
dipping hypodermic needles into lightning bolt soup.
The smell of wet dog lulls me to sleep, where
Milk Duds torment my left little toe.
The cell phone wakes me by spitting
blue jay feathers into my face and playing Moon River
on a yellow clarinet.
I glance at the clock; it’s 4:00 a.m.,
time for my pajamas to melt in butter.
But the space puppies coughed themselves into
unconscious bliss, their windowless cricket must have had
visions of spelunking German psychiatrists.
The other patients molt into orange clay dogs,
lapping up Choc-Cola with their serotonin lips.
Cowboy Bob would be so proud of me now,
as I knit bats in my hair with Jedi finesse.
-----
Fish Tales
SCENE ONE
Pet Shop Clerk:
Can I help you find something, sir?
Customer:
Yeah. I'd like to get a white catfish. You know, one of those that eats stuff off the bottom of the tank.
Pet Shop Clerk:
Okay. Let's go right over here.
Customer:
Okay.
Pet Shop Clerk:
Here they are. Which one should I get for you?
Customer:
Oh, how about that little fella' right there. The one in the corner. Yeah, that one.
Pet Shop Clerk:
Okay. Can I get you anything else?
Customer:
How about one of those angel fish. My wife loves those. Yeah, get me an angel fish.
Pet Shop Clerk:
Which color would you like?
Customer:
Black and white. The zebra kind.
Pet Shop Clerk:
We'll do. Anything else for you today?
Customer:
Mmm. I think that's it.
Pet Shop Clerk:
All right. How big of a setup do you have?
Customer:
Oh, I have a 55-gallon. Keep it in my kitchen, right next to the table. My wife keeps nagging me to move it into the bedroom. But I tell her no, I'm not moving it. I like watching the fish when I eat my dinner. It settles me.
Pet Shop Clerk:
I have two 25-gallons in my bedroom.
Customer:
Cat fish can get pretty big sometimes.
Pet Shop Clerk:
I know. My dad's a fireman and he knows a guy who went through the dive rescue training up at Geist Reservoir.
Customer:
Oh yeah, there's some big fish up there in Geist.
Pet Shop Clerk:
Yeah. And this guy went down with three or four other guys and I guess they saw a catfish big enough to eat a man.
Customer:
No kidding. I heard there's some that big in the canal.
Pet Shop Clerk:
Really? Well, I guess these guys went down and when they came back up they were white as ghosts. They said the thing was big as a car. Could've swallowed a man whole.
Customer:
No shit.
Pet Shop Clerk:
Yeah.
SCENE TWO
Wife:
You finally home?
Husband:
Yeah.
Wife:
Where you been?
Husband:
The pet shop.
Wife:
Oh. The pet shop, huh?
Husband:
Yeah. I got some fish.
Wife:
And did you make a stop at the liquor store too?
Husband:
...Yeah. It's right next door to the pet shop.
Wife:
How convenient.
Husband:
I got you a fish.
Wife:
Oh, you thought of me? I'm touched.
Husband:
Here, look. It's an angel fish. Black and white. Like a zebra. The kind you like.
Wife:
What's the occasion?
Husband:
No occasion. I just thought you'd like it.
Wife:
It's okay.
Husband:
It's okay? Is that all you have to say?
Wife:
Yeah. So?
Husband:
So, you could say thank you.
Wife:
And you could stop drinking.
Husband:
You know how hard things are at work right now. I have to have a few drinks now and then.
Wife:
Now and then? Please.
Husband:
It settles me.
Wife:
Oh, it settles you. So much that you bust holes in the wall. That's settled all right.
Husband:
I told you I'm sorry. I'll fix it.
Wife:
Sorry don't cut it.
Husband:
I really am.
Wife:
You always say that.
Husband:
I'll move the aquarium in front of the hole for now.
Wife:
That's all you care about, ain't it?
Husband:
What?
Wife:
Watching those damn fish.
Husband:
I care about you.
Wife:
Humph.
Husband:
I do. I wish I could make you see that.
Wife:
Well, you could put down your drink once in a while and talk to me.
Husband:
Aren't we talking now?
Wife:
It's not the same and you know it. Why do you like watching those damn fish so much?
Husband: It settles me.
Wife: Same as a drink?
Husband: Yeah.
-----
The Other Side of the Window
It's a warm and breezy August afternoon. My ginger cat Tiger gazes outside from his perch in the bedroom window. His golden eyes glow with anticipation as he waits for birds to visit the feeder. The sun cuts his pupils into sharp black slits. His silent posture reminds me of the Egyptian cat goddess Bast, with only the ankh necklace and gold hoop earring missing from his regal stance.
A sudden shift in wind breaks the silence, causing the lilac bush to shake in a violent swarm of small green flags. Tiger's whiskers tremble in the wind. Most of them are white, but three rogue whiskers prefer to dress themselves in black. His ears, pink inside and filled with blonde tufts of fur, stand at attention. They shift back and forth like radar telescopes searching for signs of extraterrestrial life. His diamond shaped head, which bears the tabby "M" in its center, moves up, down, left and right, searching for the movement's source. What's that?! Where'd it go?! How can I get it?! he seems to think.
Tiger lifts his head, squints his eyes and sniffs the air. I wonder if he smells the marigolds in my garden. Perhaps he's caught the scent of a squirrel that darts up my neighbor's oak tree. His pink nose oscillates between the shades of pale melon and dark rosebud. I have yet to discover the cause for this unusual phenomenon. Perhaps the change indicates mood. A piranha's red belly will swell into a bolder shade of red as a sign of aggression. Or maybe the color change stems from what Tiger eats. Some scientists believe the skin color of the Amazon's boto, or pink dolphin, fluctuates with its diet.
Maybe I'll never know why Tiger's nose changes color, but I treasure it and all of the other traits that make him special, like the tiny spots like pepper grains in the middle of his nose. I keep waiting for him to sneeze when he inhales those feline freckles. He also has a black mole on his lower gum. I see this beauty mark whenever I scratch his chin, which he adores. Tiger also has the loudest purr of any cat I have known. If you sneak up behind him and start scratching his back, he'll wheel around and utter a surprising "Meow?!" followed by a low rumble which slowly grows in volume like the stirrings of a volcano preparing to erupt.
I don't dare sneak up on Tiger, though, because he has spied a female robin hunting for worms in the grass. It's a synchronous dance and beautiful to watch. The robin hops; Tiger's tail twitches. The robin cocks her head to the side; Tiger leans in closer to the window. The stripes on his mackerel coat bristle like a miniature cheetah waiting to make its kill. I hold my breath, fearing that the slightest noise will interrupt the ancient ritual taking place before my eyes in the comfort of my bedroom.
Then the wind breathes for me. A strong gust blows through the window, causing the white drapes to thrash about wildly like ghosts trapped in daylight. They flap in front of Tiger for a few moments, then fall across his face as the wind dies down. He presses his nose through this unwanted veil, determined to keep an eye on his prey. His tail becomes an angry pendulum. Where's my bird?
But the robin is gone. The wind must have carried her away on its sighs. I let out my own long sigh. Tiger spins his head around, noticing me for the first time. "Rrr ow!" he chirps. ("I'll get it next time!") I smile and remember why I love him so much. He’s not only my pet and friend, but he’s also my little wildcat. Nothing, not even the window that separates him from the outside world, can change his true nature. Perhaps we can learn an important lesson from our cats. If we embrace our own inner wildness, stop looking out the window and get out there to do whatever we can, maybe our planet will remain pure and wild for a little while longer. Otherwise, there won’t be anything worth seeing when we look out the window.