Two Poems by H. E. Mantel

BOUCHE A FEU -

(BLUNDERBUST)


Carbon-forged steel

appliance, fashioned

to home & eject

upon triggering...


Lead-tipped, alloy missiles

projected to a velocity of

360 mi./hour, roughly

a .357 1/2 fast a 727, Boing!

to shoot your ass!


On contact, impacting

the Human target

to penetrate, flay

sever & shatter

lodge & murder

render...!


And this

the initiates' pander

to the seether's gunglamour,

of neo's & diehards' machismo-alike

upoverthere, everywhere

on the plasma, how iron-ick!


Faster than the batted-eye,

a Buntline, smokin' Brown Bess, or

Black Maria (Oh, Mother Of G*d!,

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune...")


We're Lost!


H.e.m.

11.23.MMvii.



REGRESSPITE -


...Welcome

to Camp ChilaboutChiladult,

Foalks: Welcome!...

Anxious-is-anxious, so

we'll not have a recess

from mess for long, but

just a few sticks to

pick-up before...


You see

the colorcoding surroundaroundings?

which'll get you

back to base

from

anyplace, here

there, and everywhere...

Lost among

the beetles and nettles

of a Nurture Walk?


Hardly!


And meet

the nice Man

to my left

Peter Salte,

our ReCreationist

(here with his son Erik)

who'll kindly guide you

'cross pristine Lake Piaget,

atop your inner-tunes,

cutup jeans and kiacts

- without paddling -

and

Selfloating

to the Broadshaw for

Picnicfrolic, and snacks,

Your Friend

for the Oaks' climbing,

ReadingStorytime,

and

Naps...


And to his left,

the sweet

Kay Gaarten

(here with her daughter Prima)

who'll kinderly be

in attendance for the

teeterswings, and curb-tottering,

neighbor-face-and-fingerpainting,

communal Chorale ShowerSinging

below The Falls

(with bubblepipes),

snacks, naps and pillowflights, and

Naps...


Be happy

to know, no

Puppet Shows,

Rolf beats Golf

(We all know

'bout them Links

to kempt cementaries, & all...)

not even miniature!

Be happy, here -

Here, We

Offthebusys,

a Summer-Of-Pun

thrown into the deep-end

of a Dictionary, unwebfooted,

splashing

toothpaste onto

the bathroom mirror okay,

OK!, and

Hey! Mmmm!

Eating from your Fingers!


Imminant.


By the way, yonder

is Crusoe's 'n Tarzan's Tree House,

My name is Joshua St. Sesame, and

It's almost...

NapTime!


H.e.m.

6.15.MMviii.

(Vida Longa, Puertia Diu)



H.E. Mantel/HaroHalola

of Hallandale Beach, Florida; published Poet/Writer in both Print, and Internet Ezines/Journals/Anthologies; awaiting the publication of Poetry collections, "Bananas' On The Moon...A Collection Of Revisionist Haiku" & "Sophistigates: A New Book Of New Poetry."

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