SKIP THE LIGHT FANTASTIC

I once believed that if I read

too many tales of fantasy, 

somehow a witch would find a way

to make my life a travesty.

She's pile on my scrawny head

whatever mash her cauldron made,

then melt to mush my sanity.

I'd chase that little Riding Hood,

cleave her head with a wedge of steel,

or follow Snow White bashfully.

I'd shed fake tears and disagree,

I'd stomp my feet in nasal whines,

I'd live my life vicariously.

But is it smart to live a lie?

Perhaps I ought to give the boot

to books without a shred of truth.

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(C) 2017 by Salvatore Buttaci

TO SHED SOME LIGHT

(inspired by a painting by Matt Dixon)

I miss the old light bulbs Uncle Sam

replaced with new halogen incandescents.

To shed some light on the situation,

watt prompted intensifying the lumen count?

The white coil screwed into the fixture

strikes me as almost other-worldly alien,

the way it lies about long-life illumination,

the subterfuge, the home invasion

of those content with a darker shade of light.

But what disturbs me most is the loss

of that metaphoric light bulb that clicked

with every new idea bulging with

brilliance, lighting the road just enough

to gather words and phrases to build a poem.

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http://www.salbuttaci.blogspot.com