Swell Zine: No Strings

Pinocchio's nose grows
when he's rolling on ecstasy.
The puppet's pine-ringed finger-
prints, concentric years, 23:
he's not a real boy.
"But he's real to me!"
ejaculates Gepetto.
Silly old puppetmaker.
He floats on his back
in the tub, easy to find.

On Pleasure Island if you drink
the water and act like an ass
you sprout big ears and a tail,
(though they say this well is tainted
and turns out buffalo humps)
in which case Pinocchio, at this rate,
may well wind up a burro
or, since he's little, a burrito.
But his horns are showing.
He's definitely got no strings
and he tries every ride, some twice,
the lucky ones.
You should see the Great Stromboli
exploit this extraordinary puppet,
who puts on a great show
and chimes, "I love being a star!"
But I can't say I really know
what that stuff does to him.
Is it why he loved me twice?
Would he even recognize me in daylight?
Raw mostacciolis stuff their meat
in his al dente shell; he worries me,
not because his nose grew in my mouth
but because he's my favorite puppet
and I don't want him to turn into a donkey
or camel.

When it's showtime he performs,
sometimes for gold.
I don't offer him gold;
I touch his hair and let
the warmth of my palm
tell him enough
while spaghettis and vermicellis slurp.
I can't whistle convincingly.
If conscience were a termite
I'd eat him alive.
His noodle arms strap
my donkey ass under his charm
and away we roll
down the ride
at Pleasure Island,
our tails swatting flies,
hoofed hearts in our ears.

Adam K. Apellasios stepped onto the writer's path at 21 upon attending Northern Illinois University, where he best loved the protest literature from his BA in English. He wrote, wrestled and coached until he hung up his headgear at 27 to return to his native Chicago and sought the path that would lead him to coming out, grass dancing at Native American powwows, and discovering his own heritage as a Greek-American. He has earned an MFA in creative writing from Roosevelt University and continues to practice what he calls "method writing" by living the adventures that become more truth than fact. His work has appeared in the NIU and Roosevelt literary magazines, the zine Poachers, and in the NewTown Writers anthology Off the Rocks as well as their zine Swell.