Starburst (The Poem Formerly Known as Opal Fruits)

 

 

I

 

During the maiden voyage of the miniature surgical submarine

(I had been picked due to my extensive experience

of massive organs),

we were sailing along the vas deferens

when Dr. Graeme Garden's appendix burst.

What are the chances?

 

 

II

 

I took my cassowary claw hammer

and smashed the pink piñata

suspended from the ceiling

into a trillion itty-bitty pieces.

A hundred tiny donkeys fell to the floor

and ran off in all directions,

braying for blood and vengeance.

 

 

III

 

I dropped a ripe watermelon

from the top of a block of flats.

It landed on the bishop's head.

He couldn't get the damned thing off

(it was firmly ensconced on his noggin)

so be blindly drew on a facsimile

 of his own face, complete with glasses

and the addition of a pencil moustache.

Now he scoots around the diocese on his electric bike,

with his big green and red watermelon head,

pretending like nothing has happened.

 

 

IV

 

Every time

I pop a bubble wrap bubble,

a star in a far-off galaxy dies.

 

It's all true.

I promise you.

 

B.R. 26/06/2016