Monday, March 27, 2006

WHEN THE PUKE FAIRY CAME TO VISIT

The Puke Fairy came to visit last night at 12 AM
She found both my children and crept up to both of them

She grinned an evil grin, cracked her knuckles and blew a fart
Then she waved her magic wand and my kid’s eyelids flew apart

The air around my kids was filled with nasty brown pixie-puke dust
And in their sleep my children’s tummies did a flip-flop of disgust

They sat bolt upright in bed and gave a low, unhappy groan
Then from their mouths in a hot, nasty spray their cookies were all blown

In my deepest sleep I heard a nasty liquid splatter
Then I shot up in the bed myself ‘cuz I knew what was the matter

Oh, the moans! Oh the howls! Oh the nasty puke-stink fug!
Then my toddler turned and leaned and blew chunks upon the rug!

I poked my sleeping spouse and cried, “arouse yourself, my dear!
We have much work to do tonight, for the Puke Fairy has been here!”

She jumped out from the bed without a moment’s hesitations
And we set to strip the bed and kids, making shallow respirations

She plunked the screaming kids in the tub and gently washed a booty
While I to the washer went and set it “HEAVY DUTY”

The kids were cleaned and dressed, and the beds were then remade
The washer chugged, we gently whispered calming words to the children where they laid

It took almost an hour to get them back to sleep
And when we saw the clock reading 2:15 AM it made us want to weep

I guess it’s all part of parenting, and though we’d never switch,
If we ever catch that Puke Fairy, we’re gonna shoot that bitch!

5 comments:

Jenny Jenny Flannery said...

I remember when poems were about beauty. Alas.

It's funny but painful. Are you sure you want to capture this moment forever?

It's also very vivid; I can smell the bile from here. Then again, I'm supersensitive.

Raven said...

All I can say is ewwwww!!

Jenny Jenny Flannery said...

Art is not always a hammer, as previously discussed. Besides, I've been beaten to a pulp by life recently; I guess I'm a little sensitive.

I like to leave this kind of thing in the dimly lit past, myself. I'm not sure I understand why you'd want to relive this over and over again while writing about it and then present it to friends for review?

Pain can be exquisite sometimes and beautiful when captured in poetry. But I'll take a stand right here and now to say that I don't ever think puking could be exquisite or beautiful or even instructive.

What was the reason you captured this in poetry? I'm not getting cranky with you; I'm just curious

Jenny Jenny Flannery said...

That's a cop out. I'll buy that you thought this was amusing at 5 a.m. but you can't convince me that your poems lack permanance because the medium they're delivered through is only temporary. Come on! I know you have a version of this down on paper somewhere.

And, BTW, I think farts are funny; it's not just a guy thing.

I guess why I'm pursuing this line of conversation is to send you this message: The topic was so repellent to me that I could only read it once and never got the opportunity to notice interesting turns of phrase or enjoy any of your wordplay.

So, if you were trying to communicate an idea or a sensation to an audience who were only 1/2 as grossed out as I was, your message was effectively and most probably lost to the ether. Using a hammer, in this case, was counter productive, if communication (a.k.a. poor man's telepathy) was the goal.

If you were just having fun pushing boundaries and pulling chains, I must say it was a great success.

Jenny Jenny Flannery said...

Good question.