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It Must Have Been the Tacos

by James Zealy

As he strolled purposefully
Stale taco breath belch
Heartburn acidous attitude

Storm skies pelt acrid drops
Of singed molecular charges
Olfactory assault response

He puddle stepped oblivious
Under breath muttering
Lost in acrimonious revery

When blinding flicker daggers
Costumed creator alarms
Too late to move flattened

He stumble arises
In front of "The Lightning Flashes" sign
Above a dimly lit store front

Pushing aside the olive branch
Cynically angry he slaps open the door
And stares as he turns a sickly gray palor

There wax figure perfect
Stands a round be spectacled boy
Bat and ball ready

A surreal smile highlights
Single motion wings
A Ted Williams Baseball

Instinctive hand mitt reacts
As the ball pops a crimson crack
Two curved fingers red seams caress

Grass stained orb returned wrist whip
To a gleefull spectre
Repeated at least a gross

Angry lips part upward, upward
As the last pitch leather smacks
He turns to leave amid mutual laughter

Awakened he smiles puddle drenched
Two fingers curled red seams arched
'Round a grass stained Ted Williams baseball

08/28/2008

Author's Note: Barbara Dooley asked us in the general forum to use a cliche "The Lightning Flashes" in a poem. Well here it is.

Posted on 08/28/2008
Copyright © 2024 James Zealy

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Lori Blair on 12/28/11 at 11:16 PM

Wow! Just so Brilliant! I am there..unendlessly so...vivid and just so much, I lose my breath! :)

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