Take the Chair

by Cathy Bryant

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Please sit down, darling. I must talk to you.
I have something to tell you. I’m leaving you.

Are you comfortable? I’ll just raise the seat.
Root canal surgery, eh? Just relax.

Take a pew! Just a friendly, informal interview.
Why do you want this job, what are your strengths and weaknesses,
tell us a bit about yourself, where do you see yourself in five years?

I DON’T CARE whose fault it was. You can BOTH go and sit on the naughty step.
NO toys allowed, and KEEP QUIET.

Take a seat. I’m sorry to have to tell you that it’s bad news.
You can see the shadow on the x-ray here.

I sentence you to death by electric chair.
You will be taken from this place…

Sit! Sit! Obey orders, dog!

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O Fortuna

by Cathy Bryant

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You will eat a cookie and know joy.

You will beat a small stark danger.

You will discover that a kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh and that the fundamental
things apply as time goes by.

You will get harried and have cauldrons.

You will have to fight for your life against a many-headed dragon. To defeat it, you must
(continued in a different cookie)

You will survive the zombie apocalypse – as a zombie.

You will only achieve ultimate happiness by subscribing to litmags.

Everything you have read in fortune cookies will turn out to be true.

Altered State

by Cathy Bryant

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Alter? When the hills do.
Which they have quite a bit recently, actually,
what with that half carved off for the quarry,
and on the top, that Cultural Heritage Centre
with the posh café and the bypass just by,
and the new houses. So I’m sorry, love.
Our relationship was a pleasant thing,
but not enough to fight for its preservation;
not a thing of outstanding natural beauty,
was it, really?