May 04, 2012 01:19
A little free verse ditty composed the last time I brought home an endtable requiring "minimal assembly." Dusted off for Cherie Priest, and for everyone who brings their furniture home in flat, heavy boxes.
*****
TO THE MAN WHO DESIGNED THE TABLE I JUST ASSEMBLED
Oh, it's death for you, my boy
but not for a good long time.
An elastic interval, shall we say, between points A and B
where B is the furnace, and A a fine assortment
of power tools.
Yes, we're going to have some words, you and I
Though whether they'll come before or after
the piranha
is an open question.
I like to give my whims room to breathe.
See, I never understood how events might conspire to make a supervillain
but congratulations!
I’m fresh from the forge.
With hex wrench imprints on nine fingers.
In fact, if I ever see another piece of lacquered particleboard
ever
again
I'm going to punch a baby dolphin to death. Yes.
And take the corpse to a childrens' hospital.
And give it to a kid hooked up to a dialysis machine.
Because it's not like he'll be able to run away.
Not easily.
By the way, when I said piranha
you thought I meant tank?
I meant solution.
Seems I spent my aquatic horror budget on the blue-ringed octopus.
Expensive!
You wouldn't think you could slip such a thing through customs
(and honestly you're not supposed to)
but have you ever read Bruce Schneier's blog? Edifying stuff.
Anyhow, pay attention now
As this concerns you:
My Allen Wrenches have just come white-orange off the fire
and tied up like that, you look like a table.
So much like a table.
In very serious need
of tightening.