{ONE}
It moves when it's shoved; is rarely
moved; it sits aloof in a corner.


{TWO}
They suggest that you use
the setting 'disturb'
when mixing a volatile liquid.


{THREE}
A breathless extrusion of distended words,
images spun like cold cream cheese,
the spurious features the maker provides;
the power and skill that I need.


{FOUR}
I chucked the pitcher
at chitterbox squirrels.
I really wanted
meat and a daiquiri.


{FIVE}
Wal-Mart fliers tout 23 speeds.
Mother's Day must be coming.


{SIX}
Lone wizard of Menlo, did you conceive
this contrivance of speed of your genius?
We speak of high-lines and towers
and peaks; none speak
of gloam death in ethers.


{SEVEN}
When the last loon
is spotted
leaving Crean Lake,
the only sound heard
is a whirring.


{EIGHT}
Giselle embraced guests
with servings of mai-tais
and heaped bowls of home-made
clam dip. Her blender,
untended by poolside
a fortnight, suffered
from lark's bottom splatter.


{NINE}
Pomegranate and cherry
blend to nirvana. Pomegranate
and nuk-mom blend goo.


{TEN}
Oh, mothers, frappe ice cream
and cocoa and milk! Feast
on this small self-indulgence.
Share hesitant glassfuls
with children and spouse--
this sparse self-indulgence:
your love.


{ELEVEN}
A prayer to Allah and
a plea to the alderman
funnel and spin
through their vessels.


{TWELVE}
I'd rather break ice with a heavier tool
than damage its fragile esteem.


{THIRTEEN}
I am alone with my push-button toy,
serrated by comfortable distance.


� 2004 by Edward J. O' Brien