Midnight woodwork

Yesterday I met Pinocchio
— without the strings attached —
he sat beside me,
on the nightrain leading to
another place than here,
(somewhere too close to nowhere)

His slanted tie was resting
limpid, tired on his sunken chest;
his suit was stained with saw-dust,
and shoelaces untied.

Bourbon breathingly he
stammered in his smartphone,
“Darling I am late, soo much to do,
burning midnight-oil to pay our loans”

Cinderella’s lipstick on his collar,
nose was slowly growing.
He looked at me:“Excuse me sir,
could I ask for your assistance?”
I nodded (after all he was polite)

From deep inside his pocket
he handed me a tiny saw;
whispered (bending boozy air my way)
“An inch should be enough
to hide my little lie tonight”
He pointed at his purple-bluish nose.
Bending down his head was resting
gently on the seat beside me.

My wood-work skill is limited
but I can use a saw,
Evidence removed, he thanked
and shook my hand.

Remaining silent after that
carefully Pinocchio prepared himself
with chewing-gum to meet his wife.


Today Claudia run MTB at dVerse and she encourages us to include some magic in our poem:

– Where something or someone that/who is not real suddenly becomes real&alive
– Where a character from a book shows up in your poem
– Where someone suddenly disappears and finds themselves in a whole new place…

—
December 12, 2014