The other day,
I found a booth of ''Ideas for Sale''
at a flea market.
I bought a dozen for twenty bucks.
They were new, too.
I never buy second-hand ideas
because second-hand ideas always smell,
and they always have stains.
I thought it was a pretty good deal--
only twenty bucks for twelve ideas--
You know ideas these days,
they're rare, so they usually have to be expensive.
Actually, I started wondering if they were really refurbished ideas.
Maybe they're refurbished
and there's really some defect
or they don't work at all.
If it turns out
that my new ideas are broken,
I'll take them back to the idea stand and get a refund.
Either way,
I bought a dozen ideas for twenty bucks the other day.
© 2015 Abby Danfora
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Monday, August 17, 2015
Snow White's Cujo
"Get out," you say.
You smother me with your cold green eyes
and point to the door and my suitcase.
"Leave now." Your voice bites.
It crouches behind your tongue
and leaps out in a wave of shouting.
Your lipstick is bright red,
the color of Snow White's apple.
For a moment, you remind me of Cujo.
You snarl.
Your wet fur rises on end.
You crouch to attack.
You inch forward.
The blood drips off your fur
and onto the kitchen floor.
"I'm leaving."
It's not as if I care to stay here.
I never liked animals much anyways.
© 2015 Abby Danfora
You smother me with your cold green eyes
and point to the door and my suitcase.
"Leave now." Your voice bites.
It crouches behind your tongue
and leaps out in a wave of shouting.
Your lipstick is bright red,
the color of Snow White's apple.
For a moment, you remind me of Cujo.
You snarl.
Your wet fur rises on end.
You crouch to attack.
You inch forward.
The blood drips off your fur
and onto the kitchen floor.
"I'm leaving."
It's not as if I care to stay here.
I never liked animals much anyways.
© 2015 Abby Danfora
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Some Guy in the Park
There's some guy in the park.
The pigeons throw bread at him sometimes,
but then he poops on their feet
and they flap him away with their wings.
Sometimes, when he's really hungry,
he'll follow unsuspecting pigeons around
and shout until they give him food.
He's a real creeper.
Still, he's not nearly as bad as the lady in my kitchen.
She's been there for years.
I don't set traps anymore, though.
I've learned to leave her alone ever since she bit me.
Every evening,
I find her crawling on the dirty dishes.
Mornings, I come downstairs
and find teethmarks in the bread I use for toast.
I've been thinking,
maybe I should take her to the park
to meet the weird pigeon-chaser guy.
Maybe they'll hit it off.
At least it would get her out of my bread.
The pigeons throw bread at him sometimes,
but then he poops on their feet
and they flap him away with their wings.
Sometimes, when he's really hungry,
he'll follow unsuspecting pigeons around
and shout until they give him food.
He's a real creeper.
Still, he's not nearly as bad as the lady in my kitchen.
She's been there for years.
I don't set traps anymore, though.
I've learned to leave her alone ever since she bit me.
Every evening,
I find her crawling on the dirty dishes.
Mornings, I come downstairs
and find teethmarks in the bread I use for toast.
I've been thinking,
maybe I should take her to the park
to meet the weird pigeon-chaser guy.
Maybe they'll hit it off.
At least it would get her out of my bread.
© 2015 Abby Danfora
Sunday, June 7, 2015
My Bucket List
Some people make a bucket list
when they turn fifty or fifty-five.
I myself have a lot of buckets stored away
in various places,
and here is a list of them,
even though I'm only eighteen.
I have a wooden bucket--
it has worm holes,
smells like earthy rotten wood.
Grandma gave it to me years ago.
I think I used it once to carry crisp green apples back from an orchard in Charlottesville
and then left it in the backyard and forgot it was there.
I also have a rusty tin bucket.
It's rusted. It's covered in yellow rust.
I use it to throw at the neighbor's fat hoodlum cat.
It cut my hand once and I got stitches and a jagged scar shaped like Belgium.
There's another bucket, a pail,
a baby bucket,
sitting on the windowsill,
growing some carnations--red ones,
just like the ones in the film Jean de Florette.
You haven't seen Jean de Florette?
Go watch it, and next time you see me,
we'll have something to talk about
other than how awful your week was.
My favorite bucket
is an ivory bucket.
It's not rusty or rotten, and
it's never been used, never will be--Paul brought it back from India
and I keep it on a shelf with my Italian flag and German martini glass
I also have a bucket
that's a family heirloom.
Willy Wonka would say
"it smells like old people."
I imagine it also smells like cat, though--
my cat sleeps in it all day,
except when she's eating or chasing her tail.
I guess that means my heirloom bucket smells like old cat.
Delish
I have one last bucket--
it's buried in Canterbury.
Nevermind, that's Becket.
Thomas Becket.
Stupid typo.
My real last bucket I gave to
a handsome boy who took me
on my first date,
and he sent it back empty with some break-up note crumpled in the bottom,
riddled with spelling errors.
I told myself he was too illiterate anyways.
I had polished it, filled it with chocolate,
his birthday was right after Lent ended,
and he'd gone off with some other girl
who smoked green cigarettes
and wore lipstick rouge
and drank pink ladies
and danced a perpetual two-step whenever she walked
(while I clambered around in pointe shoes,
twisting ankles and breaking toes),
he'd gone off with her--
he even gave her some of my chocolate for her birthday.
It's my bathroom waste bucket.
© 2015 Abby Danfora
when they turn fifty or fifty-five.
I myself have a lot of buckets stored away
in various places,
and here is a list of them,
even though I'm only eighteen.
I have a wooden bucket--
it has worm holes,
smells like earthy rotten wood.
Grandma gave it to me years ago.
I think I used it once to carry crisp green apples back from an orchard in Charlottesville
and then left it in the backyard and forgot it was there.
I also have a rusty tin bucket.
It's rusted. It's covered in yellow rust.
I use it to throw at the neighbor's fat hoodlum cat.
It cut my hand once and I got stitches and a jagged scar shaped like Belgium.
There's another bucket, a pail,
a baby bucket,
sitting on the windowsill,
growing some carnations--red ones,
just like the ones in the film Jean de Florette.
You haven't seen Jean de Florette?
Go watch it, and next time you see me,
we'll have something to talk about
other than how awful your week was.
My favorite bucket
is an ivory bucket.
It's not rusty or rotten, and
it's never been used, never will be--Paul brought it back from India
and I keep it on a shelf with my Italian flag and German martini glass
I also have a bucket
that's a family heirloom.
Willy Wonka would say
"it smells like old people."
I imagine it also smells like cat, though--
my cat sleeps in it all day,
except when she's eating or chasing her tail.
I guess that means my heirloom bucket smells like old cat.
Delish
I have one last bucket--
it's buried in Canterbury.
Nevermind, that's Becket.
Thomas Becket.
Stupid typo.
My real last bucket I gave to
a handsome boy who took me
on my first date,
and he sent it back empty with some break-up note crumpled in the bottom,
riddled with spelling errors.
I told myself he was too illiterate anyways.
I had polished it, filled it with chocolate,
his birthday was right after Lent ended,
and he'd gone off with some other girl
who smoked green cigarettes
and wore lipstick rouge
and drank pink ladies
and danced a perpetual two-step whenever she walked
(while I clambered around in pointe shoes,
twisting ankles and breaking toes),
he'd gone off with her--
he even gave her some of my chocolate for her birthday.
It's my bathroom waste bucket.
© 2015 Abby Danfora
Sunday, May 24, 2015
To Do List
Starred items are most urgent--more *'s = more urgent
make blog post**
work on optional group project for envi sci*
eradicate worldwide terrorism threat
fix guitar string***
send photo for NCSSM yearbook*
draw/paint something***
finish History dispute*
take biogenetics final exam
send NCSSM graduation invitations*
find job**
find roomate***
write thank you cards*
message dance teacher about lessons*
watch AHS and SN***
clean Subaru*
buy new bathing suit**
find cure for cancer*
search Elance
make dinner reservations*
book flight for AADP*
bake cookies for party**
sell junk*
make PayPal account*
fix earbuds**
enter My Coke Rewards codes
clean inbox***
set up cell phone*
get new pointe shoes**
clean
cat's room*****
front room
office*
halls
bathroom
kitchen*
room**
fill out immunization form for AADP*
read and review books**
return awful Netflix DVD that's been on the table for months********
earn Swagbucks
fix laptop*
sell photography on stock photo site**
review French**********
check email
find/return NCSSM textbooks*
Checkout 51
do laundry**
make last will and testament*****
drive on interstate**
get organized
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Made in China
© 2015 Abby Danfora photography
"What were you thinking?" she asked. "Why did you do it? What could you possibly have been thinking?"
She towered over me in her utilitarian, mass-produced chair, which was probably made in China over a decade ago.
"What would your parents say? Your father? What will he do when--"
I thought about the concert I was going to with my best friend later this afternoon. We'd get our photographs signed after the show, maybe talk to the singers, go get fat on pizza and junk after. We'd come home at 2 a.m., sleep 'til noon the next day, go out and shoot some hoops maybe.
"Are you even listening?"
I looked up.
"I wasn't thinking," I said. "I'm sorry."
She looked intensely at me, pursed her lips and sighed. Her eyes met her folded hands in her lap.
After a moment, she got up and pushed her utilitarian chair back under her desk.
She waved an arm down the empty school hall.
"Stay out of trouble," she said. "Go on, get outta here."
I turned and escaped past the dark empty classrooms and into the fresh sun.
I turned and escaped past the dark empty classrooms and into the fresh sun.
© 2015 Abby Danfora
Monday, January 12, 2015
Some Music for the Surviving of Tuesday
Hallo,
Like everything else I enjoy, my music tastes are colorful, sometimes downright strange. Here are five of my favorite artists with a sample of music for each from le YouTube. Along with prayers, these awesome singers have gotten me through many a Tuesday, and I hope they will do the same for you! These are not by any means the only singers I enjoy, and they are not in any order of preference. They are just some of my favorites who came to mind first in a random order.
I do not claim any rights to the music videos, the songs, the lyrics, or the artists. All rights go to the original video uploaders, the singers/musicians, and song writers. Enjoy!
Claude Barzotti (Belgian-born, Italian-raised, French-singing)
Le Rital: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPXtKGuG9rw
Margaux Avril (French, French-singing; her birthday is two days after mine!)
L'air de rien: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h5ztosKIqp8
Helmut Lotti (Belgian, sings in just about every language)
Очи чёрные (a traditional Russian song): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIWQE-8t5ew
Lena Meyer-Landrut (German, won Eurovision for Germany in 2010)
Touch a New Day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WIEQBeIoS0
Jonatan Cerrada (Belgian, French-singing, represented France in Eurovision 2004)
Dites-moi: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufjirSuWr6I
After making this list, I realized that three of the five artists who first came to mind are Belgian-born. I wonder if this is entirely a coincidence or if Belgian blood and good voices go hand-in-hand?
Enjoy!
Oh, and let's not forget Elvis! But, of course, he goes without saying, so I didn't include him in my list :). I don't really need to provide a YouTube link for him, do I? It was a night, oo-oo what a night it was it really was...such a night...
Like everything else I enjoy, my music tastes are colorful, sometimes downright strange. Here are five of my favorite artists with a sample of music for each from le YouTube. Along with prayers, these awesome singers have gotten me through many a Tuesday, and I hope they will do the same for you! These are not by any means the only singers I enjoy, and they are not in any order of preference. They are just some of my favorites who came to mind first in a random order.
I do not claim any rights to the music videos, the songs, the lyrics, or the artists. All rights go to the original video uploaders, the singers/musicians, and song writers. Enjoy!
Claude Barzotti (Belgian-born, Italian-raised, French-singing)
Le Rital: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPXtKGuG9rw
Margaux Avril (French, French-singing; her birthday is two days after mine!)
L'air de rien: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h5ztosKIqp8
Helmut Lotti (Belgian, sings in just about every language)
Очи чёрные (a traditional Russian song): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIWQE-8t5ew
Lena Meyer-Landrut (German, won Eurovision for Germany in 2010)
Touch a New Day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WIEQBeIoS0
Jonatan Cerrada (Belgian, French-singing, represented France in Eurovision 2004)
Dites-moi: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufjirSuWr6I
After making this list, I realized that three of the five artists who first came to mind are Belgian-born. I wonder if this is entirely a coincidence or if Belgian blood and good voices go hand-in-hand?
Enjoy!
Oh, and let's not forget Elvis! But, of course, he goes without saying, so I didn't include him in my list :). I don't really need to provide a YouTube link for him, do I? It was a night, oo-oo what a night it was it really was...such a night...
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