Originally published in The Evergreen Review Issue 117 in February, 2009.
The Easter Bunny was damn sick of it
the flatulent scent of boiled eggs
in bloodshot acid drop graphics
& wigged-out Phyllis Diller pastels
the sadness of cellograss, abandoned baskets
Peeps with a stomach bite wolped out
and left to menge
the gummy gooed gimme demands
done wore his paw material thin
Sloe gin fizz grim
the E. Bunny stands
sideview to the looking glass
tube socks & tulip shorts
eyeing his osteo slouch
How the hell is it a hare can grow lovehandles
and suddenly have no rump?
Coinckydink, gentleman, or not?
O Golden Bunnydom!
At first the honor astonishing—the awe
then friends fell to jumpsy jelly seething
& critics crabbed, "Brilliant, but can he keep it up?"
Always the festering pressure to Outdo, Outdo.
Where was his youth?—
and that chunky little bookseller in Umatilla
who'd once let him shave her mudge?
The E. Bunny shoved on his chukka boots
& scrambled towards his El Camino,
peeled out onto the boulevard
a volley of spreckled malt balls
flying from the glove box—
Long in the tooth? Long in the tooth?
the E. Bunny barked,
I'll show those hutchduffers, what-what!