April 19, 2008

P is for Peter who drowned in the bath

P is for Peter who drowned in the bath
04/19/2008 - National Poetry Month post #22, part of The Unlucky Twenty-Six

With the ground far below, Peter held on real tight
for he'd never before been sky diving at night
but he let loose and grinned as he jumped out in flight
and he plummeted Earthward without any fright.

He zoomed through the clouds as he fell through the air
bugs squished in his teeth and he just didn't care
and he screeched his delight as the wind whipped his hair
and the only place he wanted to be was right there.

With the skydiving done, Peter went to the shore
and surfed on the mavericks he'd not surfed before
and the sharks swarmed around, at least ten, maybe more,
and he crashed in a wave with the mightiest roar.

But the surfing was tame, so he went to the river
where he jumped in a kayak that he had Mom deliver;
as he shot down the rapids, a wink he did give her
and the water was icy, but he did not shiver.

He trekked through the Panama jungle while ill,
climbed Everest twice just for the raw thrill,
and all his friends called him a dumb imbecile
when he dove from the Amazon falls in Brazil.

He rolled in a fire ant nest soaked in honey
and walked through Los Angeles, hands stuffed with money
and crossed the Sahara in weather most sunny
and showed up at school dressed up as a cute Bunny.

But when he got tired, he he went home to rest
and went to the bathroom and got all undressed
and climbed in the bath and thought he might test
how shocking the hair dryer was--quite, he guessed.

Before he could try it, the water's warm heat
soaked up to his chin and made him feel beat
and he fell right to sleep and he sank down complete
and that was the end of the thrill-seeking Pete.

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.

6 comments:

blogless troll said...

All right. This is the funniest one so far. You've got that wacky Seussian hyperbole down pat.

Robin S. said...

I agree. This is so damn funny.

But also - it freaks me out that his name is Pete!

pjd said...

Thanks, guys. I wrote this one hyped up on caffeine while my 8-year-old was in a crazy zoo of a place called "The Jungle" at a birthday party. I probably would rather do most of the things this Pete did than be a birthday party coordinator at "The Jungle." Crikey.

Ello said...

Ok this was hysterical, but I have to offer you a true story that is part of your poem. When I was dating my husband, he came up to visit me in Brooklyn for the weekend. He needed to go to the atm and get some cash out so I drove him and parked a good block down the street from the bank to wait for him. After he got the money, he came walking back, down a crowded Brooklyn street, in a not so nice part of town, holding the wad of cash in his hand, flapping in the wind like a bunch of flyers. When he got in the car, for some miracle unharmed, I turned to him and said, I would have mugged you you damn yokel.

JaneyV said...

So funny. I once had a sky-diving boyfriend - thrill-seekers are exhausting!

But an 8-year-old's party - now that's totally knackering!

pjd said...

ello, I know what you mean. My dad was with a friend in downtown Hartford one night, going to a play. It's dark, and Hartford is, well, not a nonviolent city at times. The friend says, "Let's have some ice cream. But you're buying cuz all I have is big bills." This is right as they're walking past a small knot of gang-looking teenagers.

Jane, I agree entirely. I've never jumped from an airplane or really even done anything extraordinary in a thrill sense. Unless you count being the school crossing guard, where I've nearly been run over four times (quite literally).