Ten Different Sketches of the Same Shrunken Head

I.

Stiff-bristled brushes
stuffed in a vase.

II.

Pocket lining from
a chimney sweep’s coat.

III.

A miniature medusa
carved in hematite.

IV.

A weathered toupee
atop a prune.

V.

A blackbird
in a Dutch Elm.

VI.

A velvet mask stained
with liquorice.

VII.

A shrivelled shelter
for cloudy days.

VIII.

A hiding place
from the chaos of crowds.

IX.

Crumpled crepe
stuffed with soiled twine.

X.

A memento mori
on a vanity table.

Dunsinane 19

The craft touches
down on an astral cloud
where the mist
changes hues
to match our moods
like the rings
of bygone lords and ladies.

We grab our shields,
adjust our
masks,

and head back
towards the caves
of Cawdor.

Victims

After the brick hit me
I passed out
on the concourse floor.

The blood dripped on the tiles
just like pig’s blood
in a porkchop pack.

When I came to,
I came to notice

not a soul
had stopped to help me.

No one asked what happened.
No one asked me how I was.

I heard the roar of voices.
I heard a cheering crowd.

And then I saw the centipede
scuttling its way towards the sale signs.

T.J. Maximus

I tried on the top hat.
Not a good fit.

I tried on the sports coat.
Not a good fit.

I tried on the overalls:
Not a good fit.

I tried on the G-string.
Not a good fit.

I tried on the crew socks.
Not a good fit.

I tried on the loafers.
Not a good fit.

I tried on the noose.
Perfect.

Sideshow

The clown on TV says it’s
All a hoax.
Says germs were
Cloned by the Illuminati.

Take away those trampolines.
Let’s keep the fight online tonight.
Your boos and hisses
Woo the net.

Behold the faithful peanut man
Shucking a bag of frozen peas.
Note the strong one in the tent
playing solitaire.

Why’s the fire-eater chewing
Ice? Where is Apple Annie?
It’s time to sing ourselves to sleep:
The lull is in the lullaby.