The Jivin' Ladybug

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Ken Cormier

What do absurdist ditties stuck in an automobile sound like? Check out Ken Cormier’s automatic dictations, mainlined from his brain to your ears…



“A Squeeze of the Hand”


boy gets into boy’s

while breasts pushed to

            the center

rub through pants

swingset pole

nipples never satisfied

boys rip through zipper hole

schoolyard perfume

and sweaty neck

exposed ankle

legs spread in office

            chair, reclining

glimpse, stare

eye catching tongue

            in swelling


and tea-bag testicles

sensing peek down

loose shirt.

A squeeze of the hand.

            milky globules

slide warm and sentimental.



Stop Writing to Jazz


Related self matrix modulation

The rapid pen sat capturing the tongue

Rinsing in mid-drought

The cannibal way you crave me


Why can't you walk slowly?
Why won't you sit down

And breathe with me?

Lay yourself down on the earth

No saxophone music

Stop writing to jazz


You car horn reptilicus

Fighting the flu

I badly wax sad

I'm a fraud and a red


Chinchillas run scared

And birds in the city

Get sucked into fans

We relate to

And hate to

Admit to

Ideas about living

Crawling in dirt

Statues of animals scattered in fields

In cities on roads

Reminding us here of our will to forget.



Sing Sweetly


Bereft and becleft

Besmirched and besmeared

My eyelets and baubles now burst from their bags

Move wicked and backwards

And thrust into me


My cowardice twitching

All balled up and retching

I made myself useful

I sat in the back

And you sipping tea

With your big-boned persona


Sing sweetly and tell me

You don't want to hear

My butt-load of worries

My hogshead of fears


I Require


I require savory stuffing,

hot brittle sandwiches,

succulent strudel,

and broiled baby animal.


I require wet-scented napkins

and cold-frosted silverware.


I require deep-fried hard candy,

squashed ham with loaf,

and one breathing head held against another,

warm like a baby's head,

nose whistling inhale.




I cleanse my palette,

uvula and glottis delightfully refreshed,

tongue rippling muscular and wet, segmented.


Cornucopia of razor blades,

each cactus swallow scream,

lip split to chin, secret teeth revealed!


I chew my palette,

grind it into paste and swish.

This drink of deception,

this sensory milkshake.


At table I spit into paper cup.

While napping, I rewind the day.


Such tainted visions!

What fiendish cud!

The Jivin' Ladybug- A Skewered Journal of the Arts
All rights for materials presented on The Jivin' Ladybug belong to the artists. All materials are for non-commercial and / or educational use only.