"The Popcorn Saga," "A Simple Shelter from the Gaze," and "The Car Chase Comes Too Soon"

The Popcorn Saga

Popcorn has no place to go;
sad lonely eyes
keep hoping for a home,
but once it’s stale,
the kernel don’t pop
how it used to,
like a Top 40 princess
who lost her voice
to diet pills and grey​
goose; like a porn stud
who blew his last load
in a vacuum cleaner
that really cleaned his money
maker; like a banker
who bought too many bananas,
a wholesome treat to be sure,
but not when you hoard
them like Twinkies
to lock the market—
‘cause when the wedgie
misfires, it’s your own panties
that ride up in a bunch;
so Popcorn started all white
and fluffy and clean,
but too many rolls
in the butter and old bay
wore out her welcome;
you can’t put enough
lipstick on some pigs,
and a thigh won’t release
its butter so quickly;
Popcorn got a new gig
as a runner on the stock
market floor, rising to the top
faster than King Kong
with a sack full of napalm,
or James Bond with rocket
pack underwear and Honey
on the roof; Popcorn ran
investments like a killer
whale—tons of force
behind ceramic blades
that cut to the jugular
of every deal, and shaved
the short hairs on many
a broker; from rags
to riches and from gutter
to the boardroom, the winds
of change keep the bubble
blowing until the grease
goes rancid and the kernel
starts to rot; Popcorn went out
in a big way, with a yacht
full of dynamite, heroin
and whores blown
to the moon with half
the beachline of Bermuda;
the cost was high,
but there’s no going back—
profits move ever forward,
and every swindle has a future
on the silver screen



A Simple Shelter from the Gaze

Under the fish eye lens again
here at work, on the street,
in the stores, someone always peeping
down to track my movements,
but how could I be more boring,
just sitting around
or doing those daily things
too tedious to mention
So sometimes I pick
my nose at the desk
just so they have something
to see;
            if you really want
to get away with living
just put up an umbrella
and carry on shoplifting
all the world’s treasures
and adventures into your hoard



The Car Chase Comes Too Soon

Grip your pizza if you must
like a parachute made of dough
and sagging for old glory—
it stretches best when raw,
but a crust will do
when the drop comes slowly;
if you land on your feet
you can dance with the angels,
a club of old queens
in leather jackets, mink stoles
and gold-plated dildoes
three feet long and cracked
like a bullwhip so the band
plays on—some song
about toothpaste,
or viagra, a weight-loss pad
that doubles as a tampon,
a real hit parade of wonders
squeezed out of tubes
like tapeworms taken
from Godzilla’s colon,
all chopped up like
lozenges, sponges or glue,
any form you want,
any shape, any flavor,
any shade of green or gray;
nothing interrupts your distractions
like a truly blue pill dancing
in a movie with a song
on its lips and a promise of candy—
the car chase comes too soon,
but it goes on everlasting
like an erection, like an enema,
like smoke from hell’s back acres,
like a nosedive into the sun,
or the smile of an angel
when the happy pill kicks in,
before the ground comes up
like a mountain of glass the morning
after the big one



Jeff Bagato

A multi-media artist living near Washington, DC, Jeff Bagato produces poetry and prose as well as electronic music and glitch video. He has published nineteen books, all available through the usual online markets, including Savage Magic (poetry) and Kill Claus! (fiction). A blog about his writing and publishing efforts can be found at http://jeffbagato.com. Jeff recommends supporting Angry Old Man Magazine.



Edited for Unlikely by Jonathan Penton, Editor-in-Chief
Last revised on Tuesday, February 11, 2020 - 22:07