notnostrums

Jono Tosch

Jono Tosch

My Pickle

I turned around; my cornichon 
Had made a big scene.  The police 
Put a cordon around it.  My hat 
Fits snugly, but I am not an important 
Person.  I own and operate a balloon  
Company.  I make good money 

And when I need more money 
I borrow it.  Take my cornichon
For collateral.  In a hot air balloon 
You can easily miss the police 
Barrier.  Barriers are important
But so are trees.  Inside my hat 

It says, “hair is your ode.”  My hat
Is strange and keeps me warm.  Money
Can buy happiness.  It is important 
To remember that a good cornichon
Is imported from France, but police
Brutality is bad.  A cop in each balloon

Is my motto.  A cop in each balloon 
Means no more night sticks.  The hat
Conceals the head, and every police 
Officer wears one on his.  Money
Talks, but I never met a cornichon 
That could spell.  How important

Heat is, but how unimportant 
Good pants are when high in a balloon 
On a bad date.  I brought my cornichon 
To the zoo.  I  brought my favorite hat 
With me.  I put all my paper money
In my fanny pack, and the police 
 
Applauded from below.  The police 
Are notorious applauders.  Important
People shout.  Checks are money 
You can write on.  A good balloon
Should float away, but a good hat
Should not.  I need my cornichon  
 
To feel important; I need my balloon 
To breathe.  The police cuffed my hat
Today and ate my briny cornichon.  

Real Pudding

I am going to the moon.  Soon
I will ride my hair.  I will climb
the ladder of my stomach and 
launch.  I will pack sandwiches
for all the moon creatures.  Thus  
I will commence my speech.  Thus 
I will moan and bend over.  Thus  
I will bottom out and mend all the 
fences of the moon.  
I cannot promise to bring back
exotic birds.  I cannot promise 
to rip open a can of pork and 
beans and find your red rose,  
the wax rose you crawled up 
your ear to find.  I will not take
any mustards with me.  I will not
stow any condiments in my moon
pouch.  There are supposed to be
cold winds on the moon, cold winds
and no deli counters; no deli counters
and fierce pumpkin-colored snakes 
coiled in each crater, coiled like bags
of cold copper wire.  The lake is only
collateral.  I am only a small piece of
suet.  My current shape is a bell.
This is why I cannot promise anything
more.  I am a bell-shaped hunk of seed
about to ride my hair to the moon.  
I am stuck together with honey and
advanced technology.  People blink
when I touch my nose.  I am one big
engine of hope.  There are pumpkin
shaped sandwiches around every
corner.  My current shape is a bell 
with its metal dinger ripped out.   
Perhaps you need an answer soon.  
There is someone knocking at the
big oak door.  That someone just 
happens to be the president of 
Yugoslavia.  We are good friends.
He financed my adventure with 
a wink.  Personally, I cannot wink;
thus I must crawl over the bridge
between my clavicle and my dream
of space.  There is supposed to be
danger around every corner.  There
there now, I am a professional.  I am
so happy we met on that windy day
some people call yesterday.  What 
a raw deal chocolates are when 
the vacuum of space sucks your
pockets down, sucks them down 
like bellies.  I hope there are no 
starving people in space.  They
depress me.  Technology is so good
these days, it is possible to see one
grain of rice in someone’s empty
stomach while orbiting.  I know how
to knit.  Thus I am packing my darning
needles.  There are no alpacas on
any other planet.  This is a breakthrough
for suet.  The president of Yugoslavia
gave me a medal and I accepted it by
jumping up and down on my hat.  
Thus I cannot promise any more 
radiance.  Thus I cannot promise 
to fill my stomach with golden roses.
The mission would not be considered
a credible one if I planned to bring
hair pins.  Hair pins have no place
in outer space.  President’s orders.
I am in a big room of real pudding.  

I had no use

A rector banged on my door
With a big bag of sunglasses.  
He said he had lost his post.
He said he would make a deal
With me.  I had come to the door 
With a brand new baloney sandwich.
The mustard had not begun 
To chill upon the plane of the lunch meat.  
The rector did not say this much 
But I understood the sentence of his eye.
Some birds were on the feeder 
Bargaining for position on the rods.  
I reminded the rector of the passage,
Blessed are those who sink into the lawn,  
And politely I told him no.  
I had no use for sunglasses.
It hadn’t been sunny in days.    

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