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Mundane Tuesdays (not really a poem at all, make of it what you will)

Of course Tuesday is
itself naught mundane
being just one alone
and not every day.
and nor is it every day you see
a fridge walking down the hill.

I ask you as I asked myself
'When the f*ck did you last see
a side-by-side fridge ambling down
your street,
on garbage day what's more?'

Nimbly side-stepping the black Holden
rear-end poking across the path....
(the self same rear-end I had scraped
a two-dollar coin across
last time when on a dark stormy night
distracted by wafting flying fox wings
and watching not
I found myself on my own rear end
on the cold wet concrete
amidst the fallen red callistemon
that festoons our street,
but as someone profoundly irksome in the blogs
says so often 'I digress') remounted the kerb
and resumed the descent
as did I this time.
(try reading that between the brackets in one breath!)

'Mr Tudor Elgee' I said approaching
nearer, 'Wherefore walk you down my street?'
'Well it's a lot bloody easier than goin up ain it'
Quoth he, with impeccable logic
'I see you struggling bike and helmet up the hill,
You won't see me doing that so often!'

So I resumed my thoughts of mundane Tuesday
Is it Yellow bin or Green this week?
If I cannot go to Kamchatka or Sakhalin
An ambling fridge will pass the time,
Thai takeaway for tonight.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2
About this poem:
Nothing to say - an impromptu invention. The footpaths will be red with Callistemon flower, and purple with Jacaranda and no 2-door LG fridges will roam the streets.

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Comments (1)

Hi, FargoFan,
“not really a poem at all, make of it what you will”, the poet writes. A poem or not it may be; but, this reader can say it was fun visualizing a fridge walking down the hill and those wafting flying fox wings. Thanks for sharing this whimsical Tuesday tale. Though, it can’t compete with a trip to Kamchatka or Sakhalin, I’m sure.
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