Four poems by Ricky Garni

Pretty Woman
By Ricky Garni

The pretty blue woman who looked just like my dead blue wife
was really dancing the night away to the surf sounds of Los Straitjackets
on Halloween of all nights she even started to twist just like my dead wife
so much in fact that she tumbled to the floor which was a real rock n roll
beer floor and what could I do? I picked her up and asked if she was OK
and she laughed and held my arm and said yes, she was OK, and she smiled
and started dancing again and faded away into the crowd and I said aloud
as loud as I could say – It was good to see you it was so good
I am so happy that you’re OK.

Old Love
By Ricky Garni

You misunderstand me: I do not
love peaches. I ridicule peaches.
Perhaps you can’t do that. But I do
scoff at them. May I do that? I may.
As for bicycles

and cheesecake: you are correct –
I would sacrifice anyone in the world
to have bicycles and a good cheesecake
(other than Faye, of course.)

And yes, I do like nougat. It’s a fine
word, a good word, a naughty word
a word that –

It doesn’t matter. Now I am thinking
of Faye. For her, I would do anything–
the rest may go.

The Natural
By Ricky Garni

I had this nine second dream
in the middle of watching
THE NATURAL somebody
called me and said Faye is fine
she is just in the hospital
she’s laughing and carrying on
asking for a hug and going on
about lambs that fly and such
so don’t fuss and I said, Great,
let’s go see her right now, you see,
there was nothing to worry
about after all, OK then, here
we go let’s go and then

Robert Redford gave
a little wink, and took
a big swing and that
baseball smashed into
the stadium lights and
everyone cheered and

it was the best day ever
and everything was magical
and everyone was beautiful
Faye was laughing
and the entire world sparkled

with life it really seemed
that way in that Natural
dream it really seemed that way

Animal Power
By Ricky Garni

Last night my wife
broke the dishwasher
and a river of sudsy foam
crowned the kitchen floor

Yesterday my wife
imitated a flock of sparrows
in the pine trees
near the pool

This morning my wife
gave me a gift:
a half of an oak leaf
pressed onto my pillow

And yet when people say:
“But you’re not even married!”
I say: “You don’t understand how
powerful my wife really is.”

Ricky Garni is a writer and graphic designer living in North Carolina. His work is widely available on the Web, and he has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize on five occasions. His books include My Favorite Fifteen Presidents, Maybe Wavy, 2% Butterscotch and Shadow Box Chocolate Cake. His latest collection, Hey, is dedicated to the memory of Faye Hunter.