Three Poems

by Mark LaMonda

Turning the Food Pyramid Upside Down

His civility is sand in an hourglass.

The sand is dispersed, and he is done.

I mean, done!

Civility be damned.

It’s roadkill burgers for dinner,

and a game of dissecting possums over tea.

Mr. Hyde is in the house,

and you ain’t getting’ near Dr. Jeckyll.

Tidy up a bit and be gone.

Come back latah with a bite to eat,

something healthy – meats and ferments.

Perhaps, if it hits the spot,

We’ll tuhn the houhglass ovah faw youse.

When the Cat Wakes You the Morning After

The morning cat

is blazing red,

while you, my friend

find all manner of speech and activity

incomprehensible,

You find a tooth in your pocket,

but your tongue feels nothing amiss --

stumble to the garage

to find your car unscathed.

You are relieved, but the tooth in your pocket

is utterly demoralizing.

The morning cat ricochets off your walls,

doesn’t care if you live,

who you harm,

just wants its breakfast, and wants it now.

After Your Sister’s Death

It is so very quiet this morning,

birds peaceful as well-worn nurses sleeping in.

Breathe. The waiting is over.

The black Labrador lies solemnly at your feet,

free of all preexisting conditions.

Breathe. Your table is laden with gifts,

though your sister is gone.

Breathe. The latch is broken,

but the gate leads

to fields of daffodils and Mozart.

Breathe. The waiting is over.

Step into your life --

wake up the birds.

BIO: Born in Worcester, Massachusetts, Mark LaMonda is an artist and writer who currently lives in Santa Clarita California. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in many journals, including Painted Bride Quarterly, Wilderness House Literary, Autumn Sky, San Pedro River Review, SoFloPoJo and Blue Unicorn.