The Managing Partner

I'd like to thank Edge of Humanity Magazine for publishing this poem first.  If you are unfamiliar with this journal, it publishes a lot of interesting art, poetry, and commentary.  You can find the journal here http://edgeofhumanity.com

The Managing Partner

Don't tell me he was fooled by a pretty face -
not when we've given him the run of the place.

Yup, he paid her 45,000 and begged her to stay.
She said thank you and still walked away.

Did she at least give the money back?

Nope, it hit her account and she started to pack.

[Sound of Toilet Flushing]

I'd be fired if I negotiated such a deal.
He took her to dinner and she ate his meal.

[Sound of Water Running in Sink]

When he spilled Jamaican coffee on his shirt
she grabbed his fork and ate his dessert.

[Sounds of Self-Satisfied Smiles in Mirror]

Then without even a backward glance,
she walked away wearing his pants -
down the block and across the street
joined another firm, free to compete.

If the facts got out the partners would riot.

I wonder if he'd pay us to keep it quiet.
Because if we tell he'll lose his lofty position
and he'd never accept such a humbling transition.

He does lead us like a hearse to the tomb
all while believing he's the smartest in the room.

But his brilliance wears a brilliant disguise.
It's only seen with a mirror and only with his eyes.

[Sound of Door Opening and Closing]
[Sound of Toilet Flushing]

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief

The Dray Horse

He gave the last full measure of devotion
without receiving recognition or promotion.
Living on the muted end of a video call
a dray horse working quietly in his stall
until found back turned to a virtual door,
glued to his chair, feet fixed to the floor,
staring searchingly into the electric blue
as if it could tell him what is true.
A conch squeezed tightly in his shell
bothering no one until he started to smell.

His cramped cubicle was in the last row.
It was a long way away so I would not go.
Instead I sent work to him by email
which he would respond to without fail
but then there were unusual delays.
To be fair, he'd been dead for two days
staring into the vast electric blue
as his work lined up in a virtual queue.

Now the accountants have correctly said
he shouldn't be paid for the days he was dead.
So I hope his family won't give me flak
when I call to get that money back.

Accountants - they're not virtual or new. 
That's what I see inside the electric blue.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief

Chicken Pol Pot

We were in Cambodia YumYum when Karen asked 
if they serve General Tso.  Laughingly I said no, 
but they do have Chicken Pol Pot, which is to die for.

It starts out sweet but then the heat hits like a bullet 
to the head.  And though I doubt this is true, Karen swears 
I told her to get the Khmer Rouge dumplings too.

My Cheshire grin should have been a clue but when the waiter 
walked over Karen gave her order and onto the sidewalk I flew.

It was just a silly genocide joke, but some people spurn humor like others malign salt.  Then they pretend to be offended and act as if it's my fault.

Hey, I'm the one who left before I could finish my beer.  Seems to me -
I'm the victim here.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief 

Ban My Book, Please

In a desperate attempt to achieve my twin goals of becoming obscenely rich and obnoxiously famous, I became a poet.  It didn’t work.  But I was reading Luisa Zambrotta’s Words and Music and Stories yesterday, and she had a post about James Cabell and how he rose from obscurity overnight all because he wrote a book the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice (Oxymoron Alert) achieved in getting banned. (http://wordsmusicandstories.wordpress.com/2022/04/14/fantasy-optimism).  Perversely, writers become rich and instant celebrities whenever people try to ban their books.  It makes me wonder why folks would want to ban anything they don’t like.  If “offensive” books were only ignored (like any other book), those writers would remain impoverished and die alone.

My second thought was that’s brilliant!  I’m going to do that.  I started thinking of all the obscene topics that would get a book banned:  war, cruelty, rape, adult diapers, hatred, and Coldplay.  But when I went to various media outlets to conduct research, I found everyone was talking about these issues. The people in favor of obscenity (whatever that is) weren’t banned, and neither were the people who opposed it. Instead each side was treated with the same amount of contempt.

So now I’m bereft.  If those topics won’t get my book banned, what will?  Writing about people who want to be treated with dignity?  About people who want to love each other without being assaulted?  You can see how desperate I’ve become.  Why would anyone ban a book for those reasons?

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief.

NTGILTY2

Looking good, McSmugly, looking good!

That's what I hear whenever I see
my marbled face staring back at me.
Not that I seek my reflection out - 
it's just that in my office
I have so many mirrors about.

And who might McSmugly be?
Is that what you're asking?
                                                      Seriously?
How have you not heard of me?

I am the Creator

of a law firm:  Swift in Justice LLC.
Visit my website for a wonderful profile of me.
Win a pass for the free parking lot,
and read my motto:

The Truth Is Negotiable - My Fees Are Not. 

I do personal injuries
but I specialize in misdemeanors and felonies.
Are you sure you haven't heard of me?

I have storefronts in two states.
Hell, I drive a gold Lexus with vanity plates.
They say NTGILTY, which is what my clients tell the jury
then I take over and earn my fee,
because alibis don't sound like lies
when they're spoken by me.

I have never lost a case
though my clients have lost quite a few.
But I have no time to rue their fate - 
not when I'm Prometheus chained to an hourly rate.

That's how I live NTGILTY too.
When you charge by the hour, how much you make
depends on how long you stay awake,
and your ability to bill during a bathroom break.

So I never have time to reflect
and the only thing I ever regret
is all those fees I fail to collect.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief

A Prayer for Less Love – MasticadoresUSA

We are thrilled that MasticadoresUSA has published our poem A Prayer for Less Love. We really appreciate their kind support.

A Prayer for Less Love

I’ve heard what you say in the name of love
and your favorite word is no.

I’ve seen what you do in the name of love
because the purple bruises still show.


Please go here https://masticadoresusa.wordpress.com/2022/04/05/a-prayer-for-less-love-by-luvgood-carp/ if you would like to read the rest of the poem.

Thanks very much.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief
  

Reading to My Son’s Class on Dead Poets Day

Mind you, most parents would pick
a stupid Seuss story and read it quick,
but those were things read long ago
when TVs had rabbit ears and winters snow.
Now kids understand the value of time
and their tastes for entertainment are far more refined.

Kids love poetry; they love to tell jokes,
and since this is about them, I've decided to do both.
So in honor of the day, I say
we must find a poet to put in a grave.

The kids look up, startled a bit,
but I assure them it's easy because poets aren't fit
so the odds of one winning a fight are slim
and I wink at the teacher as there's a bit of the poet in him.

I then recite The Walrus and the Buffalo
because kids love aged men who are full of woe,
which brings me next to Sylvia Plath
because that crazy bitch always makes me laugh.

Then I get an idea that's so sublime.
But would it be indulgent to read one of mine?
I could because I've written quite a few
and it would only be indulgent if I read them two.

Once I have finished speaking my lines
I realize fifty minutes wasn't enough time.
But the teacher jumps saying I must be on my way
and I leave to the acclaim only silence can convey.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief


Each Spring Beckons Me Out the Door

A fuzzy pink sweater adorns the cherry tree
and all the ladies half my age are smiling at me.

Or so it seems -
maybe they're just smiling near me.
It's hard to see with such watery eyes,
as if I'm looking through melting ice.

Each spring beckons me out the door,
but I'm moving slower than the year before
and can't keep up as the ladies walk past.
When did these women get so fast? 
 
Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief

Top Poetry Blogs

We are thrilled to announce that Pungent Sound Journal of Pulp Poetry was selected by Feedspot as one of the Top 100 Poetry Blogs on the web. Because deep down we here at Pungent Sound are really just a bunch of 12 year olds, we had hoped to land at 69. Alas, that was not to be.

If you would like to see some great poetry blogs (and ours too), you can click here. https://blog.feedspot.com/poetry_blogs/

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief