Lynn White | Poems

Board Meeting

This is no picnic.
There will be no picnic
not for these bears.
Not all bears are cuddly
toys.
Some will conspire
to take it all,
all the gold
locked in
there.

A facade
that’s all
it is.

Goldilocks knew it.
She ran away.
Others stay.

Beat

He was a hermit living in a cave with his cats.
He had a long strong thread made of catgut.
The vultures had eaten the meat.
He didn’t eat cat.
He sat all day each day
playing cat’s cradle and all that jazz
until one day they’d had enough.
So they ate him up and played rock and roll
clapping their wings in time
as good as any drummers could be.

Stoned

A lesser man would have been turned to stone
by such a look,
disparaging
dismissive,
certainly worthy of a Gorgon,
but I survived it
with my family,
though I still look uneasily
at stone statues.
Was it the skill of the unknown carvers,
or was it just a look that did the trick?
I wonder how long my protection will last,
I’ll never know for sure.