Toreador Song

Again I opened all the mailboxes 
at the bottom of our road,
left the doors hanging open
like mouths – opera tenors
singing the Toreador song
from Carmen:

don’t spit on the floor-a,
use the cuspidor-a
that is what it’s for-a!”
Nearby woodpeckers, an aviary on loudspeaker,
hammer out the Anvil Chorus.

My wife, in full detective mode:
“What is wrong with you!?!”
wants my head examined
by Dr. Edward Anthony Spitzka
who autopsied Leon Czolgosz’s brain
after he shot McKinley.

My mind that bubbles like an aquarium
in the dark with the light on –
radiant GloFish, neon tetras,
darting guppies –
where even the tiny plastic diver
gets the bends.

Across the room
grandfather clock's round belly – a cello
that plucks and murmurs
the hours – time now
to eat my telephone
and speak from the gut.

For Shay’s Word Garden and TSM

28 thoughts on “Toreador Song

  1. This began with me guffawing and ended with me identifying. I can’t tell you how many sig others have wanted my head examined, albeit not through time travel. Great mix of normalcy and the surreal, and you really made every word walk the walk..and the images! “where even the tiny plastic diver/gets the bends..” really excellent, original writing, qbit.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. So it was YOU messing with the mailboxes! You know I’m a retired postie, right? I always wondered who was doing that. I might have known!

    I love Verdi. I always crank the Anvil Chorus.

    No poets has all their marbles, or maybe we have extras. It comes with the job dsescription!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I love this transition:
    “My wife, in full detective mode”

    Also this:
    “My mind that bubbles like an aquarium
    in the dark with the light on –
    radiant GloFish, neon tetras,
    darting guppies”

    Liked by 1 person

  4. A fun read, Q. Well, did you? (wants my head examined)
    I hope your Easter was happy. Our was, we went to church and then had a long lunch with the daughter and her family.

    Liked by 1 person

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