Purple Car
I wish I had a purple car
because it would look so good
as I drove by holding a lemon sherbet cup
People would say: “That’s a delightful combination!”
while others might throw their undergarments in joy
Just like the did in the days of Franz Liszt. (1800
something.) But not at everybody. Only at Franz.
That sexy man simply knew how to play the piano
like a little God. If you don’t believe me, look it up.
Garments were thrown. Ladies fainted.
Blows were exchanged. A glove was lost.
Un Petit Dieu!
If I am wrong, you can punch me in the face.
If I am right, you can punch me in the face anyway.
Sometimes I feel like my face could
use a good punch. After all, what have I done
in this life, other than imagine purple and lemon
together, tell you my little stories, as you were
I was and why – nothing else
If only I could play the piano
like Franz Liszt before he died
and lost one glove
and then another
Ricky Garni was born in Miami and grew up in Florida and Maine. He works as a graphic designer by day and writes music by night. COO, a tiny collection of short prose printed on college lined paper with found materials such as coins, stamps, was recently released by Bitterzoet Press.