Without Alarm

Dora throws a dish at the door.
The door not wishing to be hit, opens.
The outdoors did not wish to be hit either, so dodged.

The ocean wanted to play a game of catch,
but not a game of throw,
so it caught the dish, then kept it.

When the outdoors dodged, I was displaced
from the Welcome mat, thus missed the opportunity
to catch or be struck by the dish.

The dish, a saucer with minimalist motif,
is now displaced from its matching cup.
The cup suffers separation anxiety.

The dog, who enjoys fetching, paddles
out into the sea to retrieve the saucer
before an octopus starts a tea set collection.

The dog returns and enters the house
through the dog door, with an intact saucer
transformed into a piece of driftwood.

Dora lifts the offered piece of driftwood
from the dog’s mouth to the sink
and drops it into the sink’s soapy water.

The piece of driftwood remembers it was once a dish,
returns to its saucer shape
and zig-zag drifts to the bottom of the sink.

The house sucks me in from the outdoors
to fill a vacuum in its interior
since it knew I should have entered by now from the Welcome mat.

I ask Dora why she threw the saucer.
She tells me she promised to wake the date palms
without alarm.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

POSTSCRIPT

Written for the joy of being silly, fantastical.

I remember as a kid, I listened to my older sister’s music. Her music was much better to my ear than my parents’ music, but isn’t that they way of things with kids. It was the mid-1960s and she listened regularly to the folk trio Peter, Paul and Mary. They had a song that stuck with me all these years titled: Autumn to May. I loved singing along to that song. I loved the fantastical quality of the lyrics as well. I credit that song as my starting point into the joy and fun of surrealism.

I just learned Peter and Paul still tour. Mary passed away a few years ago. The group has a website (click link).

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