Litkicks Message Board Archive

A Piece of Memorial Day Ass

Posted to Action Poetry




there is an ass
in grandma's
german potato salad again.

it is a plump
cellulite dimpled
slab of buttock
with just a hint
of pubic textured
rectal hair
peeking up from
its puckered sphincter.

"grandma," uncle john says,
"what's this ASS
doing in the potato salad?
It ain't even suitable for
a pair of soiled Huggies,
let alone a Memorial Day dinner!
What does a man have to do
to get a decent piece of ass
around here these days?"

uncle john excuses himself
from the table
& stalks out the front door,
slamming it behind him.


everyone else at the table
tenses with disbelief.

the last time someone
criticized grandma's cooking
she went on a
prozac & geritol bender
that sent her reeling into
a plant killing frenzy
where she stalked
the neighborhood
gardens & flower beds
uprooting every
daisy, buttercup,& daffodil
within a 3 mile radius.
she showed no mercy
& spared nothing,
not even the dandelions.

i glance over
at grandma.
a sob escapes
her pouting lips
as her eyes begin
filling with tears.

hoping to avert another
neighborhood catastrophe
I decide to intervene:

"it is not
a perfect ass,
at least not by the
fashion industry's standards.
but if you
tilt your head
ever-so-slightly
to the left
it looks just like
a pair of very large
& yummy easter eggs.
now let's eat. i'm starving."

grandma smiles
& the rest of the family
breathes a
collective sigh
of relief.

we say 'grace'
& commence with
the Memorial Day
ass-munching.

© 2004 zygoteinmycoffee Ink.