‘Confection Connection’ and Other Poetry by Susan Budig

Confection Connection

The girls were bored and at a loss
To find a treat that did not cost
An arm, a leg, no more a dime
They chose confectionary dross

They pulled two nickels from the grime
And gave them to the clerk part-time
He took the coins, he let them drop
Into the drawer, like bells they chimed

The girls ran from the candy shop
Their hearts aglee with what they’d got
Susie reached in, to her surprise
A fist of icky greenish glop

Back to the store with angry eyes
The girls cried foul, they did despise
Their hopes of candy were not met
The clerk endured their cruel chastise

When Susie said, “You are in debt!”
The clerk’s raised brows began to sweat
“Please, Miss, you see, I didn’t mean,
to cause you all of this upset.”

Miss Sue, she counted to fifteen
Then calmly said, “What do you mean?”
The clerk, named Dar, a smile spread
On lips up to his eyes of green

I found your face, your golden head
Your lilting voice and what you said
It charmed me so, I wanted more
I tried to speak, my voice, it fled

The trick I used, I do deplore
I never meant to make you sore
If you’ll forgive, let’s make a plan
To quell our silly little war

Miss Sue, she liked this scheming man
She asked her friend, “Oh, please, Dianne,
If you would hasten to my house
And straighten up the white divan

Dianne, all-knowing, did not grouse
She promptly scampered like a mouse
She cleaned the couch, and baked some bread
She hoped the two, they would espouse

Which they did, in weeks were wed
Their love it tied a tidy thread
But when Dar makes a sweetened sauce
Sue fears something else instead!

Interview with Lee Harvey Oswald

Let me ask you just one more question
Had you ever shot a man before?
I take your silence as implied confession

Carved in my mind: your Byzantine expression
Found on your face ere you hit the floor
Let me ask you just one more question

Was killing John your sole obsession?
A President we could all adore
I take your silence as implied confession

You maintained your sight on the grand procession
Then pulled the trigger, not once, but four
Let me ask you just one more question

Did you act alone or in succession
with others who formed a conspiracy corps?
I take your silence as implied confession

May God forgive you your transgression
As you knock with hope at Heaven’s door
Let me ask you just one more question
I take your silence as implied confession

Susan Budig writes a column for a regional magazine, This Is Living Naturally. She writes as a music journalist, feature writer, and news journalist for local newspapers in Minneapolis, Minnesota. 

Susan has immersed herself in poetry throughout her life.  As host to a poetry group at Gather.com since 2008, she teaches poetry (including traditional forms such as villanelle, haiku, luc bat, sonnet, sestina, and more) via a monthly column.  She also hosts public poetry readings at a nearby coffee house.

Susan’s poetry appears in Writers Digest; Thirteen Blackbirds Poetry blog by Edward Nudelman; Art & Earth arts blog by Ann Marcaida, and Friends of the Arts newsletter.

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