B is for Bart who got locked in a fridge

B is for Bart who got locked in a fridge
04/06/2008 - National Poetry Month post #6, part of The Unlucky Twenty-Six

Little Bart was sent to stay
at Marrow Manner with his kin
when both his parents "went away"
(they actually were done in
by a tractor trailer runaway
whose driver had been soaked in gin.)
Bart arrived late in the day
and Uncle Vlad, who was within,
refused to let him go and play
but made him practice violin--
he was a lonely divorcee
whose jaw-line was quite masculine
and spent each moment of the day
debating on man's origin.
His house was quite in disarray
for lack of woman's discipline.
For dinner they ate gooped puree
of onion spiced with glycerin.
Bart gagged but choked down his entree
and then asked for an aspirin.
He went to bed without delay
and waited til the night was thin
then later, seeking a parfait
he went down to the dark kitchen
and found the fridge's big doorway
(it was a giant, old walk-in).
He knew he should not disobey
but hunger made him walk right in.
And Vlad was well stocked anyway,
so taking food would be no sin.
The door slammed tight to his dismay
and in the dark he bumped his shin,
and he could find no other way--
oh, such a foolish boy he'd been!
The freezing cold began to weigh
and made him feel like a penguin,
and when they found him break-of-day,
he'd frozen like a mannequin.

One of my writing goals for 2008 is to write at least one light verse or poem every week in addition to my haiku wednesday and fiction friday posts. I will try to do this on Mondays.