Beatrice Benning

 #13 January Eleanor’s Mouse House There once was a woman named Eleanor Who lived in a fine home on the North Shore. Some local mice also thought it was nice, Too many for her Eleanor to ignore. She set twenty-two traps and many mouse necks she did snap. As the body count mounted, fewer mice she encountered. But Eleanor soon found that with no mice hanging ‘round, That the House of Eleanor became a big empty bore.

   #15 January’s Journey: Father and Son Returns Adding Fraternal Farewell part 1 Perspective Prelude  In 2020, when Covid-19 began to leach Sanity  and courage, And science failed to reach, The fearful and discouraged, Son’s remote learning and online sessions Led to lassitude and many missed lessons. Mom and he, and a million others in stampede, That prophecies propelled at frightful speed To southern reaches, and open schooling, Warmer beaches and again more carpooling. The Age of Enlightenment was left behind, and rationality into the dustbin was consigned, True seekers of truth preferred any kind of conspiracy that through divination only they could find. The Founding Fathers succored on the Age of Reason Would not recognize their heirs’ mad season. This Father and his heir, and Son Will now down this country run. A confluence of withheld reasons Compels a journey in this wintry season. The time is now, whilst in Father’s company, For Son ...

 #14 January’s Journey: Father and Son Returns Adding Arkansas part 6 Perspective Prelude  In 2020, when Covid-19 began to leach Sanity  and courage, And science failed to reach, The fearful and discouraged, Son’s remote learning and online sessions Led to lassitude and many missed lessons. Mom and he, and a million others in stampede, That prophecies propelled at frightful speed To southern reaches, and open schooling, Warmer beaches and again more carpooling. The Age of Enlightenment was left behind, and rationality into the dustbin was consigned, True seekers of truth preferred any kind of conspiracy that through divination only they could find. The Founding Fathers succored on the Age of Reason Would not recognize their heirs’ mad season. This Father and his heir, and Son Will now down this country run. A confluence of withheld reasons Compels a journey in this wintry season. The time is now, whilst in Father’s company, For Son to become prologue to their mutual desti...

  #12 January’s Journey: Father and Son Returns Prelude Perspective Prelude  In 2020, when Covid-19 began to leach Sanity  and courage, And science failed to reach, The fearful and discouraged, Son’s remote learning and online sessions Led to lassitude and many missed lessons. Mom and he, and a million others in stampede, That prophecies propelled at frightful speed To southern reaches, and open schooling, Warmer beaches and again more carpooling. The Age of Enlightenment was left behind, and rationality into the dustbin was consigned, True seekers of truth preferred any kind of conspiracy that through divination only they could find. The Founding Fathers succored on the Age of Reason Would not recognize their heirs’ mad season. This Father and his heir, and Son Will now down this country run. A confluence of withheld reasons Compels a journey in this wintry season. The time is now, whilst in Father’s company, For Son to become prologue to their mutual destiny. While the ...

11  January’s Journey: Father and Son Returns part 3 1. Fraternal Farewell 2. Perpetual Preparation 3. Duo’s Departure: Son to Sun The youngest son to his sunny home returning, Along America’s interstates he and father will soon be journeying. Alert! Winter storm Indigo is bearing down, Hurry the final prep, they must leave town. But the interstates are not for them alone, Other taxpayers will also be hurrying home. Forsooth! Before they are barely rolling The queues of cars begin slowing. Like ice floes choking a river swollen First responders surround a driver stricken. Down in mangled steel, reflecting lights yellow white and red, Freezing the faces of those gawking for the dead. As if creeping past an open casket, thoughtful glances are exchanged, At the scene yellow tape, and orange cones, are mournfully arranged. The surface tension is finally breached, As the macabre point is reached Where they gazed. And four lanes finally lose their unease, Vaulting to the velocity t...

  January’s El Nino, “Por favor!” #10 Big baby baking under the Pacific sun Breast swelled with energy beyond comprehension. Throwing off his blanket of greenhouse gases El Nino totters north for cooler pastures. Into the Polar Jet Stream the baby blunders Blindly groping he gashes the barrier asunder. El Nino dumbly destabilizes our atmosphere, Threatening the temperatures of the entire hemisphere. The air flowing in the troposphere is no bar El Nino passes through and leaves the door ajar. For Polar Vortex to slip out An Artic tsunami roaring south. A glacier of air miles high and continent wide Only the baby can push back this Polar tide. We implore El Nino “Por favor! Return to your home at the Equator." With shivering desperation, we shout “Please retreat!” Once you slumber again, we swear to lower the heat.”