<![CDATA[Heather Kinser

Round 1
Prompt word “ken”

BEYOND KEN

She’s got a fast Ferrari
and a poodle on a string.
She travels in a camper van—
with tents and everything!

She owns a stunning wardrobe
and some cowgirl boots, to boot,
and everything is pink there—
50 dresses (plus a suit).

She’s been a pink-haired pop star,
and a doctor—and a vet!
I’m such a fan of Barbie!!! But…

there’s something I don’t get.

Her boyfriend is a beach bum
in Bermuda shorts.
But WHY?!
If I were Barbie, I would choose
a different sort of guy.

—He’d read, instead of surfing.
—He’d write, instead of tan.
—He’d work his way through college,
like an educated man.

I know that Barbie’s perfect
on a score from one to ten.
But Barbie’s beachy boyfriend…
is a choice “beyond my ken.”

Round 2
Prompt word “irascible”

HUGO THE HORRIBLE
LETS DOWN HIS HAIR

Mean as a snake, tough as a bear,
Hugo the Horrible lets down his hair.
He enters the ring, taking a swing
at his wrestling nemesis Larry DeKing.

Larry says, “Goldilocks, betcha’ can’t get me!”

“Goldilocks?” Hugo booms. “Now you’ve UPSET me.”

Larry beware
of the Horrible hair!

First comes a tickle—a move called The Hair Brush.

Next comes a tackle—a move called The Hair Rush.

Now comes a blindside—a move called The Bangs.

Larry submits to the prickles and pangs
from a throw we all know as The Ponytail Fist
and is pinned to the mat in a Tricky French Twist.

Oh…
should the referee run to his aid?
The irascible grapplers are stuck in The Braid!

Wait.
Larry's…winning?

He's free of the strangle!

He BEATS Hugo's hair
with a move called The Tangle.

Round 3
Prompt word “chimera”

THE LAZIEST ALPHABET LETTER IS K

The laziest alphabet letter is K.
K lives by the motto—no work & all play.

K sings karaoke while flying a kite.
K paddles a kayak away out of sight.
K kisses koalas and plays the kazoo.
K kicks back relaxing with nothing to do
as we—C & H—do the bulk of K’s chores.

We're sinking K's kayak
and taking the oars!

We’re tired of pouring K's CHamomile tea.
It ought to be Kamomile—don't you agree?

You’re such a CHameleon, K, but we see
the CHaos you cause when you go absentee:

—We CHoreograph every dance in the show
—We play every CHaracter, as you lie low
—We sing in the CHoir when it should be you

The problem is CHronic.
But what can we do?

It’s quite the chimera—a dream we pursue
that’s highly unlikely to ever come true—
but we want a vacation from sounding like K!

Perhaps S & H would invite us to stay…

A CHauffer will drive to our CHic new CHateau
where CHampagne is pouring and CHandeliers glow.
We’ll hire a CHef to serve chocolate CHiffon…

as K fills the Kasm
that’s left when we’re gone.

Round 4
Prompt word “derecho”

BE A CHEF TO VIPs!

Need a job? Apply today!
Can you cook and serve?
Be a chef to VIPs!
(If you have the nerve.)

I got the job! It wasn’t hard
(since no one else applied).
I strode into the kitchen
with a blender by my side.

I wondered which celebrities
I’d nourish at the venue.
My only aim—to please them
with a tantalizing menu.

Along they came—four famous names!
Against enormous odds,
the Fates had chosen me to be
the chef who serves "the gods."

Mighty Thor! Zeus! Jupiter!
And Indra! (I was wowed.)
The superstars shot lightning bolts
while bowing to the crowd.

But...
the deities were hard to please.
I served their food, with knocking knees.

—Jupiter would thunder
if his pasta sauce was canned.
—Zeus would storm and bluster
if his moussaka was bland.
—Indra cried a monsoon
if his curry wasn’t spiced.
—Thor would throw a hammer
if his herring wasn’t diced.

They'd rage like a derecho
(an imposing wall of storm),
oh, they'd tempest with a temper
if their coffee wasn’t warm.

They'd hurricane and rampage
if I overbaked a pie.
Those picky eaters caused
an epic food fight in the sky.

I quit my job! It put me in
a constant state of stress.
(Apologies to Earth below.
I’m sorry for the mess!)

Round 5
Prompt word “ballyhoo”

THIS ELIXIR FIXES ALL!

The salesman from Santa Fe
came rolling into town one day.
He hollered loud to draw a crowd,
then raised a mason jar, and bowed.

With showmanship and ballyhoo
he gave a pitch—for Fixer’s Brew.

It stops a cough!
It cures a cold!
It makes you younger if you’re old!

We snickered as he fanned the flame
by adding an outlandish claim…

This tonic is your new shampoo!
It straightens hair—
and curls it too!

Not a single rube was buying.
Still, the charlatan kept trying.

Buy it now! My magic brew
cures ANY flaw that bothers you!
It sparkles eyes!
Erases pimples!
Straightens wrinkles!
Gives you dimples!

Folks began a slow retreat.
He blustered on (the charming cheat).

My concoction makes you thinner!
Smarter!
Faster!
Be a winner!
Sip a drop—if you’re too tall!
Glug a gallon—if you’re small!
This elixir fixes ALL!

We felt sorry for the guy.
I spoke up and told him why…

"We're not falling for your scheme.
In the town of Selfesteem
no one's uppity or snooty.
We see every body's beauty."

Then the huckster dropped his act.
He shed a tear—and that's a fact.
He gazed at each contented face…
but didn't leave without a trace.

Instead, the man from Santa Fe
politely asked us…

Can I stay?

"Yes!
But, throw away that jar.
We like each other—as we are."

Round 6
Prompt word “clandestine”

THE BALLAD OF LONG-LOST SOCKS

It’s a mystifying mystery.
It's a puzzling paradox—
but in every single load of wash
I lose a set of socks!

Mom precisely sorts the laundry,
yet it seems to be my fate
that another lonely solo sock
will fail to find its mate!

Half my socks are separated—
they’re abandoned and forlorn!
For, without their trusty partners,
they’re unlikely to be worn.

Now I’m limping ‘round my household
in a sorry sockless shoe
and I wonder where the long-lost socks
end up, and what they do…

Do they spin themselves to pieces—
nothing left but fluffy lint?

Do they shrink to microscopic?
Could I see them, if I squint?

Have they gathered in the heavens
in an afterlife for socks?

Have they flown away like seagulls
in enormous stocking flocks?

Did they wish for independence—
to be foot-loose in the breeze?

Do they hold clandestine meetings,
planning sock conspiracies?

Should I watch for sock assassins?
Are my stockings stalking me?!!!

Wait a second. I hear voices…

From the TV comes a glow,
so I glance to see a preview
of a brand-new—
puppet show.

Annie Anklesock is singing!
Crispin Crew delivers jokes!
Nora Kneehigh is announcing,
“This will knock your socks off, folks!”

So, my socks are…
entertainers?
And it seems they’ve hit it big!
Wow! They put their best foot forward
and they found themselves a gig.

It’s a sacrifice for certain,
but to show them that I care,
I collect their sole-mates,
find the stage…
and re-unite each pair!

Now I watch their show, at 9 each night.
(With feet completely bare.)