Out on the Town
Henneth rubbed his bald, aching pate and blinked
at the onions and cabbages rolling
by his head. Carrots flew, a ham hock winked,
and peas pelted him as he lay lolling
from the blow that had knocked him out colder
than the frosty morning. Kneeling beside,
it wore a woman’s guise and that, a clue, supplied.
They sheltered behind a cart, orange dyed,
on its side. Onions sailed past. “What happened?”
he asked, watching its face; Squash Blossom squirmed.
“You didn’t…you let your form slip…?” It happened
in a blink; woman’s flesh boiled; a man swarmed
o’er the cart, up it went throwing onions,
at food-lobbing folks in the pavilion.
~ ~ ~
“Next time we go to town, could you pick one–
either form–and stick to it for the whole trip?”
Hen eyed the chest-high waif, rubbed his sore buns.
They’d been chased out of town; their market trip
had turned into a food fight but netted
no actual food for the travelers.
Squash Blossom‘s shoulders bowed; silhouetted,
it now looked male and Hen sighted antlers
on the move. Meal on the hoof, could be tough.
“I’ll try,” Squash Blossom said, pulling a ham hock
out of thin air. “I got this ‘fore it got rough.”
They headed to their camp by Standing Rock.
“Did you happen to pick up any tatters?”
A blank look, a head shake, “What are tatters?”
~ ~ ~
“How about Bloss?” Hen glanced at his companion
who, for the moment, wore a man’s body.
That entity glided through the canyon.
“I won’t call ‘Squash Blossom‘ for that body.”
Henneth kicked a rock, careened it into a cave.
Smoke belched out then by hiccups, bubbles
and coughs. Squash Blossom’s form flickered. He gave
it-her-the orphaned babe. He faced trouble
barreling out of the cave: a baby
dragon sneezing gouts of flame, quite enraged.
Bloss, now woman-clad, “You scared the baby!”
it-she screamed and the dragon disengaged.
It gave a mournful growl; its liquid eyes
beseeched to join Hen’s misfit enterprise.
~ ~ ~
If you liked Henneth and Squash Blossom and would like to read other vignettes (sonnets) starring them, check out:
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[Author’s note: I fought against naming the gender-bending, humanoid creature ‘Squash Blossom’ but he-she-it would have no other name. That’s what I get for allowing them to pick their own names.]
*packs up soap box*
*walks off into the sunset*
~ ~ ~
Inspired by Magpie Tales #296 and my characters of course, who decided to start a row in the market square while I was at work of all places. I get no respect from my creations. A little humor for the Daily Post’s “Third Rate Romance.”