Pygmies in Hollowed Canoes
by Frank Watson

I jumped from Jupiter after a
long day in the office or was
it in the sun thinking of
grasshoppers hopping
along multiple webs of

finely spun silk, green in
flavor? Which reminds
me of spider bees that
dominate the wild, chewing
on golden delicious

apples until they're rotten
in the core—yes, I’ve
been on an apple
kick lately, or so it
seems—but instead

of working in the
office, wouldn’t you
also rather ride one of
those log canoes, you
know, the kind that pygmies

ride, hollowed out in
the middle, wafting
down the river bend like
a plastic raft gifting
helium to make us high?



Note: For dVersePoet’s prompt, “Stream-of-Consciousness Writing.” Thank you, Victoria Slotto for your interesting prompt!
All writings and translations are Copyright © by Frank Watson, also writing as "Blue Flute" (2011-2014).
Year: 
2012