Infinite

 

Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge

Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge

By A. Freeman Pockross

Pigs on the Wind

Dark clouds loom large over Harmonyville. Two pigs fly across the darkening night.

Or do they?

Either way, something symbolic disappears into the darkness.

The wind howls. Rain pours sideways.

An almost middle-aged boy runs through the rain, covering his precious rock-star locks with a newspaper. You know, THE rockstar cut. Rod. Ronnie. Late ‘60s Keef.

The boy’s obviously not prepared for the weather.

Who’s this boy, you ask?

Curtis, the mysterious narrator answers.

Shift

Feels like a shift

Perhaps that’s always been

Time keeps on shifting

And getting stuck in gear.

We’re always here

Whether we fear what’s to come

Or wax for what was

Here we are. 

We are here.

But what about them?

I fear they’re coming.

For me.

My joy.

My Love.

They can’t have have my love

Though it be for All.

 

My Good Good Boy

My Good Boy.

My good good boy.

Bubba.

Bubba Big Dick Pockross

Or just…

BDP.

Bubbakins. 

The BubblyWubbly

The Bubz.

Mr. BubblyBoo.

Mr. Magoo.

My good boy. My good good boy.

What can you say about something you love?

Love is real, not fade away?

May his memory be a blessing?

I’m so very sorry.

It’s all welcome.

It’s never enough.

My good good boy,

We didn’t have enough.