ditch,
the poetry that matters
Ryan Bird
Ryan Bird’s poems make regular appearances in some of
How Wormholes Are Made
Delilah Hawking could smile like
the most popular girl at an all-girl
way home from a lacklustre box
social, Delilah was distracted by
her box of leftover finger sandwiches.
They were made from Hellman’s
Miracle Whip & sweet, sweet cocktail
gherkins. She attempted to consume
the finger sandwiches while walking
down a familiar street. The whole
thing almost ended badly. However,
a spindly, young delivery boy named
Sam dropped his bags of deliverable
groceries in order to pull Delilah
to safety. “What’s that pink thing?”
asked Delilah who was about to
be smacked into unattractiveness by
an oncoming Mary Kay convertible.
The convertible was pink; it would
have matched Delilah’s wounds &
fingernails. Anyhow, braced by Sam’s
arms, Delilah took a breath & declared
“Boy, do I owe you. Do you accept
payments that involve sexy outfits?”
Momentarily stunned, Sam reached
into a nearby grocery bag, & pulled
out a jar of generic mayonnaise. Sam
held out the jar as if it were a bouquet
of flowers. Delilah thought about
how Sam’s cheek bones could do
with a hint of skilfully administered
rogue. Sam blushed like a school boy,
& Delilah’s head swam with the
most inappropriate music. “Have
you ever thought about cosmetic
improvement?” she asked. Before
Sam’s mouth could answer, the clouds
toppled over like fallen grocery bags.
Cascading strands of spilled Time
whipped about their haircuts like breeze.
Then in an instant, they were gone.
