THE CHRONICLES OF BOSH [View All]

[nostamj]

OK, I know it's not TOONs, but.... a few early episodes from a possibly LONG sequence.....

THE CHRONICLES OF BOSH:
A Fictitious History of the Occupancy of Prince George, Part the First.


Mister Bosh tries stand-up comedy

I laugh loudest because I get the biggest joke.
And the joke is not on me, see,
I am the joke. And the joke gets a laugh
Every time.
Lumps in my bed and lumps on my back,
But who takes the lumps in the end?
It's all funny because it is, to me.

You either laugh with me or at me
And believe me, I'm watching.
Laugh at my jokes or become
The joke I laugh at.

Got brush to cut and lunch is waiting
Like an armadillo in a hole waiting
For my dog.

Armadillo. That's comedy. Laugh.
Jesus would laugh. His daddy too.


===========================

Missus Bosh is smoking on the veranda

Ah! The suicide staged to appear a murder
Was a suicide after all. Finally tidy. Done!
"And I was not completely surprised. Was not!"

She removes the bookmark and places the paperback
On the stack of 'done.' A dog has pissed the carpet,
Again. She lights a fresh cigarette and sighs :

"The 'alone' here is not lonely enough."
Mother Bosh thrums like a generator in the house.
She feels the vibrations in her feet. Lifts them .
"Hmmm... tattered and tired! New slippers time.
Cranberries! Where did I put that catalog?"

The familiar tinny tinkling of Brahms. Her cellphone.
"Don't say anything that only I should hear, dear.
There are surely more bugs than bugs
And this place is infested.
Daddy Bosh is not fond of surprises."

As if to illustrate, a huge fly was investigating
The cooling cup of over-sweetened coffee:
"I swear Mother Bosh insists on fixing the coffee
Just so she can be sure to ruin it for me."

Titter. Revulsion.
Missus Bosh shoos away the fly and sets the tainted cup out of sight.

"And I never said that Mother Bosh ever made coffee.
Ever.
The only thing that Mother Bosh ever made was a fuss.
A damn fuss. And I never said that either."

Missus Bosh blows a blue plume of smoke at the circling fly.
"There's sweeter shit to dip than this damn coffee. Now, buzz!."

Inside, Mother Bosh stomps and storms. Her sons all sorrows.
Her dogs circle and shred their autobiographical pages.
Her girlish men wish they could retreat to knitting
But dress bravely and pose (with fish or fowl) instead.

"We'll talk when we're on the hills again, dear.
Away from bugs and his mother. Another hour
With another mystery and I'll smile
Because I've guessed the ending."

The fly returns, unnoticed.
The pills are upstairs. Safe, accessible.
Just pick a slim 'cozy' from the 'To Do' stack.

"Another hour
With another mystery and I'll be able to smile
Because I'll believe I've guessed the ending."

The fly is drowning in the now out-of sight cup
of the still too-sweet coffee, unnoticed.



===========================

Mister Bosh sits down with a good book

Not reading but being read to–
As was Mister Bosh's prerogative
And preference. Goat, goat. Bad goat.
Face like Osama's mama. Bad goat .
Then, a whisper, (worst. news. ever.)
Unanswered–

Ring around the rosie
Pockets full of posies
Ashes, floating,
They're jumping, George!

But the skittish rabbit runs from harm's way,
His leadership both sham and shame.

Soon, though, heroically photo-op'ed,
He's rattling swords he can not lift,
For reasons wrong and inarticulate.

Proud proprietor, dressed in loud, immaculate white,
Supervising, at a distance, as his minions open
New abattoirs of liberation. He remains,
Bloodless and beaming–

His march of freedom is the path of
The breaking of
A cold, calculating smirk.


Mister Bosh dreams about Iraq

Missus Bosh, wake up!
I'm been dreaming about Iraq.

Daisies and gum drops, Missus Bosh!
Even the armless have armloads
And they dance a cakewalk
To a Scott Joplin tune
With white gloves and tap shoes.
The smiles are paint, Missus Bosh
But so pretty you believe them.

The children who held broken dolls
Are so much shattered meat now.

Hard work keeping you safe, Missus Bosh.

You're good with children,
Read them something comforting
And bring something to cleanse their blood
From my pajamas, from my pillow.