I look over and see a firepossum
trundling in from the storm –
eight baby owls on her back,
her crown of scarlet begonias.
She heads to a stack of journals,
feeds on the garbage I call poems.
Spits and hacks out most, but a greedy
smeck smeck smeck from time to time.
I say "Firepossum, play dead!"
and she filches around in her pouch –
has a bootleg tape of the Red Rocks tour –
Jerry and Co. jamming on Row Jimmy.
Wikipedea says the firepossum
is a mythic beast that rises in flames
like the Phoenix from ashes
of suburban shopping malls in Arizona.
The familiar of muses
who blow into the mouths of the owls
like feathered ocarinas
tuned to the key of see?
She climbs into the burning hearth,
disappears, leaving an empty room
and owl pellets – I hold in my hand
inky bullets
of hair, bones, claws, and teeth.
The Sunday Muse
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qbit 
I knew you would go the fancy pants way cause you are brilliant that way Qbit! I love how you took the images and rolled them together in a burrito of blazing glory. A story poem crafted as only you can do!! Funny how Firepossum rhymes with fireblossom, and she carries amazing owls on her back and feeds on poetry but spits out the best there is. I could be wrong, but that is my story and I am sticking to it. LOL
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Ahahaha! Great.
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But you can’t catch me, no baby you can’t catch me! A little disappointed that Firepossum didn’t wear scarlet begonias in her fur, but i still love this. 🙂
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Hmm. Maybe I can swap out the dead crow line for scarlet begonias…
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OK, done!
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Yay!
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She’s eating the begonias now! Hey, stop that! This is why we can’t have nice things!
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*plays dead
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Cue “Friend of the Devil”
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I get home before daylight, just might eat some trash tonigh-igh-ight.
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OMG that is hilarious!!!
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Damn this is so good JR! Sometimes we end up with a handful of shit — but we are still pulled by the mystery of it all.
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Thank you, Rob! Yes, and there can be interesting bits and pieces in that shit, LOL!
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light and shadow playing so well together:
“The familiar of muses
who blow into the mouths of the owls
like feathered ocarinas
tuned to the key of see? “
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I think your writer would like to have that firepossum come back. They are new to me. I do know of Phoenix fire, does that count?
..
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A marvel of a poem.
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Thank you!!
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I wager she actually gobbles down all your poems ~~ with a delightful smack smeck smeck ~ for hours on end. SO many great lines here!! Cheers.
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Ahahaha! Thanks!
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This is everything anyone could ask–or at least a firepossum-anyone–in way of a somewhat gnarly tribute. Your words are like graffiti of the soul and just as attention–grabbing. The last lines are gold. Laughing and crying can get all mixed up in those little half-digested pellets.
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Thank you so much!
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Some sort of phoenix feeding on garbage you call poems.
What a way to value your poetry,…. as in my mind the phoenix always rises…
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Wow. What a fantasy. Enjoyed your poem
Have a good Sunday
Much love…
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You too!
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That whole second stanza and the “like the Phoenix from ashes / of suburban shopping malls in Arizona.” – amazing. I love this
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Thank you!
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“Wikipedea says the firepossum
is a mythic beast that rises in flames
like the Phoenix from ashes
of suburban shopping malls in Arizona.”
I am still laughing over this. Brilliant, q!
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Ahahaha! Thanks!!!
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this is great. ~
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