The misfits

The Misfits.

Snow, powdered glass thawed became slush and
dejected rain fell, bored children sat in sheds hitting
the smaller ones over the head with wooden spoons.
No snowman with coal eyes and carrot nose was
made that year as dirty paws on clean kitchen floors
became a top issue; the ministry of health exiled dogs
and, mysteriously, also ducks, from suburban homes.
Then it was summer, a dry one, yellow lawns, dead
frogs, and dust on rubber plants.

Olga, the mother, took to drink kept her bottle of gin
under the sink, sobbed every day into her dry rubber
plant, it thrived and sprouted gum. Her neglected man
looked as a tramp till a mermaid took pity taught him
to swim, when they make love it takes time cause he
has to surface every so often. The mermaid doesn’t
mind at last she has found a man who’s not in a hurry
to watch sport on the TV. Of Olga’s two children one
became a diver and the other, an alcoholic petty thief.