Static

Black as rum, white on top,
tan for you, in a double shot.
A hammer for a fly,
a fox on the sly.
Stop, drop and roll,
red handle, waiting for you to pull.
Steel guitar, dead baby in a cradle,
comfort ma; tell her a fable.
Click, click, clack, snap,
popcorn for a midnight snack.
Junie B. Jones has no home,
E.T. must call, but has no phone.
Lipstick on a collar, wine on a cuff,
heart-shaped box holds no more love.
Bermuda triangle, a honeymoon dream,
early morning coffee, milk the cow for cream.
Bullitts in the fire,
shoulda shot higher.
Shine from a diamond, dull as a knife,
sacrifice all that glitters, for the golden life.

By Kate Gubert