3 Poems Kyle Flak


“Giddy up”



Not even when Pittsburg had

offered us several peanut flavored

deserts did we venture out of the

blue tarpaulin that had been mailed to us

in sections after the wedding. But now the

coast was clear so we ventured inland in search

of clouds or at least dust, but instead found

ourselves immersed in film—one about a doomed

cowboy who couldn’t sell his brother’s tapestries

and personal longed for more dynamic ears. The moon solved

everything, though, at the last minute

by resembling a hay ride

that intercepted the football before mom

could warn Daniel about the dangers

of cheerleaders.



“A Glorious Picnic Outing”




18 men died trying to create

this lovely ziti pasta bake

so we’re not going to quit

now. There may be hostages

somewhere on my lawn

beside the sun tea or

above the close captioned

commentary but there

are grappling hooks

and parachutes available

at the front desk during

proper business hours. A grand

slam home run could save us

yet. And in this shirt

people say I must work

out or something. It will

all end in tears of course. But my

this recital hall has finely

equipped storage closets!





“Helping a Hamster”



The camouflage had managed to save our cookies on many occasions, but this was not one of them. A horn had blown on our banjo jubilee. A cow had brought shame to mother’s fruit salad. And all we had was one blue tarpaulin to serve and protect us. Good thing the newspaper was on time, even if it did interrupt my calisthenics.