Four Poems by Regie Cabico

This Is Beyond Cabin Fever

I raise a glass to the pessimistic foosball table 

to the jaded comedian, the sexy janitor

& the owl who dropped out of high school. 

A toast to Trader Joe’s employees sporting unicorn masks 

at the chili mango, freeze-dried hibiscus chip, cilantro ube smoothie aisle.    

Cheers to the ones who place blue tape 6 feet apart on the sidewalks 

& one way signs in the narrow aisles of whole wheat buns and bran cereal. 

Let’s pop a cork & splash champagne on our crotches 

for the very specific words I have yet to learn

& to the socially distancing practices of Wakanda greetings

& high 5s that are 9 time zones away.    

Let’s toast pitchers to the warrior hedgehogs training for Iron Hog on Facebook live.

Let’s snort several perpendicular lines of coke for the sloping hill that I am 

lying naked as a glacier on a black leather sofa staying in one place 

for hours, months, centuries, without moving.

I am a pastoral sunset of  bushes that blossom and burning bunnies.

I am the lusty destination of your confetti funeral or ash wedding. 

Toast me now with gummy bear shots & girl scout cookies dunked in tequila. 

Let us orgy ourselves into the next species of human evolution, the cabinet of life!

How Has The Pandemic Affected You Personally?

I dream in smoke. I dream in paisley. I dream in camouflage.

I dream I am the sidekick boyfriend of Will from Land of the Lost. 

In a virus-infested world, squids have mutated into a proprietary alien intelligence. 

We destroy them with sanitizers of vodka and coconut milk. 

I move as if an invisible harpoon is lodged inside my lungs.

I talk to avocado pits as if they were potential Tinder dates. 

I regrow scallions in egg drop soup containers. 

Every seed is a jewel. 

I label toilet paper. I can wipe my butt thru July.

My recyclables are used to build an alternative power source: 

a  hypersexed cage to store my pent up libido. 

I worship the sun. 

I use a sundial that breaks. I can’t get technical support.

I am The Little Prince in a mid-life crisis.  

I open my mouth and doves cry.

My trip to Paris is canceled.

I astral project to ancient Rome 

and find myself naked in a 3 way 

with Time & Time.

Ménage à trois in Quarantine 

My Ikea 
Mona Lisa 
cracked 
light box 
eyes my 
naked body 
on a bed w/ 
a fat wet 
grapefruit
wedge

Christ on a Crock Pot

after Fernando Raguero’s “Christ on a Cracker”

Christ on a Crock Pot
Megan Markle 
   serving soup
Jose Andres 
    cheffing pastries
Santa 
    sleigh bells off a roof

Christ on a Crowbar
  Arnold Schwarzenegger 
        at the gym 
Chris Cuomo 
   in a Speedo
giving Lindsay Graham 
        a schwing 

Christ on a Cruiser 
Madonna 
    slips in her tub 
Pope Francis
  on a gondola 
blessing dolphins, 
     lambs and cubs 

Christ on a Crabcake 
Lizzo 
  blowing keys
Simone Bile 
    flipping off 
a beam board
   Popeye 
sailing 7 seas

Christ on a Crapper 
Billie Eilish  
   ocean eyes
Idris Elba 
    sheds corona 
Doctor Fauci 
   catching lies

Christ on a Crayola
Kevin Spacey 
     posting bail
Justin Timberlake 
   cups a nipple
Bernie 
   fights to tip 
the scale 

Christ on a Crocus 
Beethoven riffs
      upon the moon 
Bette Davis 
      stealing focus 
Moana 
      flings harpoons

Christ on a Cradle 
         J.Lo 
  Super Bowling boobs
Shakespeare 
    spitting  sonnets  
Mike Pence   
         whistling 
Sondheim tunes

Christ on a Crack House
Judy Garland 
  clangs a trolley  
Liza
   makes a brand new start of it
belting New York 
     from here to Bali 

---

Image: “Annual 2016-2017” by Alan Coon