Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The Parthian Shot on Felony Frank

Felony Frank read the words of love
His fuse wire was a bit thin so on and off it blew
Granules of love washed off with acids red
Felony Frank was now a man to dread
He parked his car to a screeching halt
Put on his smile mask - and rushed to the mart
A quart of salt and some oil he bought

On his kitchen counter, where he seldom worked
He took a vessel and the oil he spread
Generously added the salt,
His thoughts, his learning, his mind he poured
Mixed them gently and pickled them for good
Walked to the balcony with a sinister smile
Shedding tears of a slimy crocodile

Felony Frank now sits empty headed and clear
His fingers script what his ears want to hear
His words over the cuckoos nest often fly
He is too insane to even be sly
Even the music finds no place to rest
As a ball thrown on the walls they bounce
And tired on the ceramic floor they fall

Now he inspects his pickled dish
Soft and soaked it needed some garnish
With deft hands he mixed the stew
Bu the pesky pickle from the vessel it jumped
Now Felony Frank chasing it all over the road
He fell in a puddle and smooched a toad
Blink !!!!! in a micro second flat

Appeared a radio jockey talkative and fair
Took Felony Frank straight on the air

Now Felony Frank pickles are the craze
They are baked, packaged and sell hot cakes
They come in hues so varied
There are some with nuts with twin flavors married
You can pick it at the mall, or order it over a email
While empty air is the guarantee for the price
Your soul and mind will be free of avarice

No more stress, and no more cares
No more challenges or pulling hairs
Felony Frank the greatest of them all
Is booked for years in seminar halls
His message is crystal clear
"Life can be lived with absolutely no care
Whether its here or there"
"Dont huff dont puff, he exhorts,
Over what you cannot see
Great pickles are the solutions for eternity.
So Just Be."

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Felony Frank is great. Enjoyed reading the poem,it had the flow of Longfellow and the sense of William Blake.