Found Poem #5

SEE YOU IN THE FUNNY PAPERS

Dagwood:  Blondie curves all over.  She gets extra lines for cleavage, breasts, her butt, and a simple V has you looking down from the Mound of Venus. All I get for my lines is a sort of baggy androgyny.  Her hair is always perfectly curled, while mine is a mess, sticks out like a little boy’s, like Alexander’s.  Poor Alexander.  He got my eyes, too, these ghoul eyes.  We should be wearing sheets.  At least he has decent clothes, modern clothes, and not this stupid tux with one button, a leftover from the good old days before Daddy wrote me out of his will. Tsk.  Then he lined me up with that skinflint Dithers.  I haven’t had a raise in fifty years.  What must Blondie, in all her perfection, think of me as she reads Colette and eats bonbons?  I’m sick of this stereotype.  I wouldn’t mind looking good for a change, looking like a real person, like a real man.  Sometimes I just want to punch the wall, but then Blondie would just hound me until I fixed it.

Blondie:  Dagwood is so lucky.  He gets all the action, and I’m seldom seen beyond the front door.  He’s human.  He works, hangs out at the water cooler, naps, makes sandwiches, argues with Mr. Dithers, Herb, and the mailman, and, gee, what a range of emotions!  If I’m not feigning a tear or smiling, I’m sitting around with this surprised expression, and I’m not surprised at all, really. I am not a manikin! Gosh, how I miss Boopadoop.  What fun I had!  But then the bottom fell out.  Big Daddy disowned us.  We had Alexander, then Cookie.  I’m not sure Dag finds me desirable anymore.  I had him read, “Madam Bovary.”  He didn’t get it.  Oh, he laughed and laughed, but he didn’t get it. I wouldn’t mind being human for a change. Sometimes I just want to scream, scream and…and throw dishes.  But we are on that darn budget.

Dagwood:  Blondie, honey, are you in bed?

Blondie:  Yes, dear. Are you coming?

Dagwood:  As soon as I finish this sandwich, sweetie. 


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