Micropoetry Monday: Wheel of Fortune

The Wheel

From Wheel of Fortune
she learned that consonants
were worth far more than vowels;
from Jeopardy,
she learned that it was okay
to answer a question with a question.
However, from The Price is Right,
she learned that any show
that wanted you to act like a fool
was not a thinking game,
but rather,
a guessing game.

He was Jeopardy,
she, Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?
He was quick
with the answers
to the questions
that were over everyone’s head
while she talked too much
& took too long
to get to her answer.
When they met Wheel of Fortune
where every contestant had
a “ridiculously handsome husband,”
a “rockstar wife,”
&/or “just the greatest kids in the world,”
they thought they’d found perfection.

For the former contestant who’d coined the term
“my hotsomesauce husband,”
the “Wheel of Misfortune” was a cross
between a waxy red round of gouda
& a disk of The Laughing Cow—
with two black lines of mold that spoiled the whole thing.
She bemoaned the agonizing minutes she’d spent,
waiting for the other contestants to complete the suffix
to the gerund in “What are you doing?”,
looking completely flummoxed when they landed on the Express,
making much ado about landing on the “million-dollar wedge”
then landing on Bankrupt the next turn,
pronouncing “n” as “en-uh”
“r” as “r-uh,”
& buying the vowel in puzzles like CHOCOLATE M_LK,
only to mispronounce the solve.
She hadn’t gone on to the bonus round
but had won a trip to a “developing country”
for which she had no other winnings to pay the taxes on.

Poem-a-Day 2017 Writer’s Digest Challenge #17. Theme: Dance

LoraBeth’s Dances of Death

She danced to “The Price is Right”
as a little girl–
to shut out her white trash world.
She danced out of all her own weddings,
leaving her live-in fiances
to eat hummingbird cake.
She drunkenly danced at her daughter’s
third and fifth weddings,
shutting everyone else out.
When she died,
all those she had wronged
danced on her grave.

2017 April PAD Challenge: Day 17