I guess the point is Conspicuous Consumption

Does anyone need
that big a steak? Potato?
How much will we waste?

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The Deipnosophist

Ralph always talked
no doubt
no mealtime baulked
this lout.

Explain this, that,
comestible comments,
words all pit-a-pat:
confident rants.

He I shunned
if possible
tiresome and outgunned.
Leaving Babel.

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Counselling for Parents of Vegans

In a world topsy-
turvy it’s the way keel-less
control their scurvy

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The Entropic

They learn enough to
waste the world with their anger.
Bombs, guns, terror. Sad.

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A winter drive, interrupted

I nearly hit a deer driving between cities on a lonely country road the other night. I tried a haiku at first but wasn’t satisfied with that:

Snowy Drive Interrupted

Deer, shaggy with ice,
ran cross, slid over the highway.
Left my lights. I shake.

So I rewrote it as a fuller length free-form poem:

A winter drive, interrupted

The deer,
was it a doe,
was shaggy with white and gray
ice spiking up her pelt
as she ran
hooves half sliding
across the snow caked highway:
quick in my beams
and then out.
My breath caught, heart
Cries from the back seat and
then the sleepy passenger seat

Couldn’t have missed her
by more than a meter.

Lucky I was below the posted speed.

but happier.

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Sciurious Syllabics

Does ‘squirrel’ have two
syllables? One ran by through
the snow. No answer.

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The Eramosa Bridge getting rebuilt, 1852

A warm summer day it was when Miss J. Thorp,
visiting her friend Miss E. Clarke,
drank root beer in an iced mug
up upon the Clarke’s widow’s walk.

They watched the daring men jump
and wrestle huge screws as they assembled
the new iron bridge over the Speed.
The men were closely supervised by none other than Mr. John Watt
a very handsome man, if there ever was one, with his long moustaches.

Everyone knew that Breakneck Bridge had been due
to be replaced for years.
Dr. Clarke had apparently said that £700 was a reasonable sum.
The girls had a hard time imagining that much money
or what they could, breathless, buy with it.
But there were holes clear through in places
and it was hard to get the horses to slow down after Eramosa Hill.
Emilia Thurtell had a large bruise
from when their trap had suddenly stopped
as their filly had broken her leg there in the Fall.
But Elizabeth and Jane, both whispering,
were sure Emilia was too much of a complainer.

As the root beer diminished in their mugs
the chatter turned to how the construction could interfere
with the ice in the channel.
Would the wood supports be gone by the next winter?
Elizabeth said her brother thought so.
Jane hoped so.
It wasn’t where the chaperoned skating occurred of course.
That was downriver where it was wider by the Priory.
They liked to tie on their skates sitting back to back
on the stump and using the fence to hold them up.
But in the narrows on this side of Eramosa was where the boys
preferred to play hockey.
And smoke!

A sudden gust came up the river
and brought a heron winging overhead
long wings out
languidly flapping below the tree tops
but over the highest iron arch
and unconcerned with the enterprise below.
As if it didn’t care.
But the girls watched, silent, for only a moment.
Mr. Watt, his silver watch out, yelled ‘Lunch’ to the men
and, spell broken, the girls’ banter began again.

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