Near and Far

For those who are hidden

by Jeffrey Field


I am a traveler near and far,
so many lands safaried,
though none so strange 
as Cuthand Range,
home of the maninkari.

There is a home
where the lizard roams
and the whipsnake 
seeks its burrow,
but none so strange
on the open range
as the hairy Armadillo.

You can look to the east and
you can look to the west,
you can look bedraggled or
you can look your best, but
when you need a cookie
you must seek out the jar,
just look for the sheriff
and his five-pointed star.

Hard to believe yet
I do not deceive when I
speak of things unbidden.
The cookie jar speaks
of its sugary sweets
but will not reveal what is hidden.

Cookie jar cookie jar,
I beg thee please tell,
where on earth did you learn
to dress like that?

Behold the cookie jar!

Behold the maninkari, for they live in the cookie jar!

Pleasure them with tobacco, get them drunk on absinthe, bow down and swear abstinence from sexual intercourse until one night you break down and wakey wakey with both hands to the strains of mackerel by moonlight.

But what if your cookie jar is home to the manicotti, insect spirits armed with razor teeth and green goblin lips? Sorry. You must sing your funeral song. Your mourners may go “WTF?” but you won’t care cause you’re dead, lips super glued in a half-smile. You won! You are safe from the manicotti.Good show!

Sing it again!

Originally featured in The Weekly Knob, October 5, 2019

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