#151 Is Grumped In the Mud

I’m mister obvious

The obvious rhyme

At the obvious time

I bugger it to the floor

Like a ten dollar whore

I am the hack

That is me

But you can’t complain

You’re the one who tuned in

For this schlock

This drivel

This insane dirt-on-my-face

Mockery of art

So I give you this:

Walking the square

Marked by the Sears fence

Of the world

Designated as mine

I find a multitude

Of mostly mud and sand

To bury myself in

With a cartoonish straw sticking up

It’s the best I can muster

These days it seems

It helps me think

Surrounded by earth

The worms and bugs

Massaging my girth

It tickles

And inspires my dreams

Mostly dreams of being buried alive though

So it’s not that great

But that’s where I’ll be

If you can’t find me

On that day that I invited you over

Just start poking the ground

Eventually you’ll find me

And be a pal,

Don’t use a sharp stick

#150 Death of Kiss

Funerals are for the living

Not the dead

That said

Who will pipe our souls to heaven

Without the scores who mourn

And sing their hymns of sweet grace?

Death awaits

Arms open

Mouth agape

We are drawn

To kiss

That yawning maw

Inevitably

Endlessly

Marching

To this certainty

That said

I hope that death

Dresses up for me

Paints it’s face

Puts on a dress

And walks with a whore’s grace

So when I approach it in that dark alley

X number of days hence

I’ll be eager to make it’s acquaintance

And run to it’s embrace

#149 Can't Stomach the Thought

“I dislike you”

I say, eyeing it carefully

“You fill me with distaste”

And it looks back at me

Equally unimpressed

Or so it seems

So smug

Sitting there

Surrounded by it’s saucy secretions

I’ll fix it’s little red wagon

I’ll cut it in half

And feed it to the goat

Offered to the goat

Whom I assumed would eat anything

Goat’s nose turned up

At this pale warm offering

As if the very thought offended

Now I’m right put out

I don’t want to confront this demon

Bad going in

Bad going down

And, for that matter

Bad coming back out again

Why are things such as this

Even here on this earth

“Why!!!??”

I yell to the heavens

Shaking my fork and knife

In fury

No answer comes

Laying there undeterred

Assured in it’s superiority over me

My cauliflower taunts me

“Oh, how I hate thee!”

#148 Hides From Colonel Sanders

Things are ugly

This means war

It’s time to call in

The Colonel Sanders Clone Corp

Marching in unison

Each one looking the same

Cloned from The Colonel’s DNA

From the depths of hell they came

Carrying their weapons purposefully

Ten supply wagons at their rear

Carrying food and munitions

As well as miscellaneous gear

They each eat a bucket of fried chicken

For every single meal

It’s the fuel that keeps them going

Though the calories involved make one reel

Their figures are cut

Their muscles in fine tone

They keep this way by purging

And working out with bags of stone

The Colonel Sanders Clone Corp

Is called upon only in direst need

For they can turn on their own in a heartbeat

And move with the devil’s speed

We send them out well ahead

To clear the enemy away

We don’t want to be anywhere near

When their forces enter the fray

Their skills passed down from clone to clone

Taught once upon a time by General Lee

Ghastly techniques not known to others

The Colonel’s secret recipe

The sun is not yet at midday

When the enemy learns what’s in store

As they cross swords with their personal nightmare

The Colonel Sanders Clone Corp

#147 Is a Bit Touched

The wind blows

As everyone knows

It puffs and it gusts

And we sway as me must

Pivoting

Towards where it does go

And oh the pitter patter

I pretend it doesn't matter

And mad as a hatter

Of the droplets

The water pockets

Upon my windowsill

Grabbing my hat

To protect me from bats

For they love to make houses of my hair

I stride down the lane

And refuse to complain

About the rain

Smattering my face

With wet

Water dripping from my nose

I stop to compose

A letter

To my best girl

In ink

Which runs in a wink

This smeared letter

I kiss to make better

And Seal it with rubber cement

I tie it to a squirrel

And give it a whirl

It runs off crookedly

Dizzy from the fun

I return to my abode

By the very same road

To await her reply

Surely she will sigh

With a smile and cry

At my words

Written with passion

In streaked ink

Tinted by madness

#146 Is Last

Last in line

Gets the last of things

If there are any left

Sometimes that’s good

Because I like the crunchy bottom

Of the macaroni pan

Other times

It’s not so good

All the good things will be gone

No more hot dogs

Or buns

Your favorite salad all eaten

You’ll walk back

With whatever you could find

Everyone else avoiding your eyes

As they enjoy what they took

Before you

But sometimes

You find something

That others have overlooked

Like a treasure

Hiding under the last light of day

It glints at you

A tiny bit

Just for you

To let you know it’s there

You quietly take your treasure

And you sneak away

Happy as all get out

To savor what you found

On this day

#145 Moving On: Tentatively

The rocking cars

From an age gone by

Rocked on the bumps

And clacked on the joints

A rhythm so consistent

To be like white noise

It was putting me to sleep

Stepping on board

The sign reminds

To: "Mind the Gap"

Lest you fall through

Meeting an awful end

No doubt

My luggage stowed

My mind wandering

Staring aimlessly

At the scenery blurring by

I remember the things left behind

And the mystery up ahead

Life was simpler

Only hours ago

I feel as I've aged

Even as we pulled from the station

Pulling away from my childhood

And on into manhood

You can't go home again

That saying, often said

I know it's not literally true

But it might as well be

Up in my head.

My destination

Growing closer

Thinking ahead

Hoping all will be well

Go as planned, no missteps

The old horsehair seat

Makes my back itch

And I wiggle to relieve it

My new angle showing me something new

A lovely girl in the row

Kitty corner to me

She looks apprehensive

I wonder if she's going

Where I'm going

She smiles at me

Mind the Gap

#144 A Fleeting Thought

What is anything

If not memories

Memories of what has been thought

People, places, events

Wars that have been fought

Memories in steel, stone, and concrete

Of designs, and designers

Some long since

Turned to dust

As our old world crumbles

Our memories fade as well

Paper turns back to pulp

Papyrus rots

Even the stone tablets

Wear away

The memories

Of who we are

What we've done

And how to do things

Are so fleeting

So easily lost

Sometimes easily changed

Like some grand game

Of telephone

Tomorrow

I'm not the same person I was today

But I remember

For a time

Then that will be gone

Replaced by newer memories

Until I myself am gone

And only a memory

And eventually

That will fade too

#143 Alexander the Painted

Alexander lived in a coffee can

In the blue tub

On the red wagon

With his manna of hamburger

I found him one day

While away on vacation

He was swimming next to our boat

I offered him some bread

And scooped him up

I took him home

And kept him for the summer

He was the prettiest little painted turtle

Bigger than both my small hands put together

He seemed to like living with us

He had a small rock

Which he basked on

In his tub, on the wagon

Of course, he loved his red meat

I would feed him

Three or four pinches of ground round

Every day

Every night

I'd roll him into the garage

To protect him from critters

All the raccoons and things

That seemed to wander around

At the summers end

I put him in his Maxwell House home

And carried him down to the lake

I laid the can on it's side

And waited for him to come out

After a bit, he did

And without a look to me

He swam away

I left the can there

Hoping he might return

For another bite or two

Of hamburger

But he never did

I dream he is out there still

Fortified by his power diet of meat

In the summer of '78

#142 Has a Blue Beetle Over

Blue Beetle

Blue Beetle

Are you running my way?

Say Mister Blue Beetle

Why don’t you stay?

Please, don’t go away

I’ll brew us up some tea

Put it on a pretty tray

Serve it up oh so nice

You’ll want to stay all day

Enjoy your tea, Mister Blue Beetle

While I’m busy here in the back

Don’t worry, nothing big

Just whipping up a snack

I’ve got long ones and short ones

Some white or black elm

Which would you prefer, sir?

I have the best in all the realm

Blue Beetle

Blue Beetle

Your carapace, it dazzles

With iridescence to spare

It is quite bright

Were you not aware?

Say Mister Blue Beetle

My tea, it’s almost gone

The sun is almost setting

And I know you must soon move on

I’ll wrap some snacks right up for you

In this nifty brown sack

I’ve added a pinch of sugar

For your late night sweets attack

Blue beetle

Blue beetle

I bid you adieu

You are welcome anytime, my shiny friend

With your scintillating conversation

And your iridescent carapace of blue

#141 Is en-Raptured

Today started like any other day

Got up

Took my morning constitution

With full amendments and resolutions

Had some yummy cereal

Then sat down and rubbed my tummy for awhile

I went outside

To take care of some things

When to my surprise

I began to rise

As if I had wings

Suddenly, I remembered

Today was May 21st

This must be the rapture!

I was fit to be burst

As I cleared the trees

I saw others rising too

We were all going to heaven!

If I were on the ground

I'd have dropped to my knees

Up and up we went

The whole lot of us

Some of us happy

Some scared and full of mistrust

But then

Something strange happened

No stranger than rising in the first place

But strange, just the same

We all started to go back down

Slowly, gently

Back to the earth

Where we belonged evidently

Finally, my feet were back on the ground

I wandered around

And tried to talk to others

But they wouldn't make a sound

It didn't come out

What had happened

Until the afternoon

And it was true without a doubt

Gravity had reversed itself

But only for humans

We all rose up for a bit

But then gravity corrected itself

And we all came back down

The gravity coming back

Oh so gently

Sound ridiculous, you say?

Well I'll take that gravity scenario

Over some fool predicting the Rapture

Any old day

#140 Smells Like a Rose

There’s a wind

A wind in the pillows

A foul and stinky breeze

Clouds the air

Makes you sneeze

The room smells of fart

Once again

Last nights dinner

Has hit it out of the park

Those burritos and beans

Cauliflower and greens

Got in the colon

And united

In an unholy union of smell

I was asleep most of the night

So I didn’t notice

All the sneaks and peeps

Coming from my posterior

Hotboxed under the covers

Released when I rolled over

It hovers in the room

Like a smelly poltergeist

When I awake

I retch

And I blame the dog

Because there’s just no way

That

THAT

Could have come from me!

#139 Flies 3rd Seat

My eyes

Like saucers

Reflect the scene before me

Video game screens

Showing the four engines

Screaming at takeoff power

Turning fuel into smoke

At an alarming rate

The copilot calls out V1

We’re really moving now

Almost floating above the concrete

In our manic run to the end of the runway

Pressed back into my seat

Thrilling to the thrust

I’m taking it all in

The approaching red lights

Marking the end of the road

The speed bug hits VR

I hear them call “Rotate!”

And the horizon disappears

I’m pushed into my seat harder

An involuntary smile painting my features

The pilot and copilot throw switches and levers in a choreographed dance

Calling out checklist points to one another

Climbing hard through 2000 feet

I close my eyes

And sigh

How lucky am I

To fly jumpseat

On a Boeing Whale

In these times of taking things for granted

And being mired in the Michigan mud

#138 Is Up Then Down

There is no work

To shirk

In this eternal summertime

That I find myself in

My grass stays green and clipped

The trash takes itself out

The only thing I need to attend

Is my margarita, which begs to be sipped

All my loved ones

Are close at hand

There is no death or unhappiness

It's rosy times across the land

Is it Valhalla?

Or maybe Heaven?

I can't really explain this state

That I find myself in

Although if I look hard enough

And not directly at

I sense, rather than see

The truth, lurking like the Cheshire Cat

First the teeth

Rend the sky from my perfect world

Then the eyes

Penetrate all things

Burning all, blackened and curled

Finally all is revealed

Pain and sadness

The only meaningful yield

I search, but find no gladness

In this place

That's not a place

In this time

Where it has no meaning

I suppose I've come full circle

And this must be Hell

#137 Ok, Watch This!

Look at me

I'm a spectacle

Am I not?

Look at me!

At least watch the debacle

Go ahead and take the dare

Just be aware

That it's exactly what

I want you to do

Stare

Please

While I make an ass of myself

Don't worry

It's good for my mental health

The doctor said so

Here's the script

"Fill as needed"

Take that! modesty

And this! common sense

Put your camera on me!!!

Now, now now!

I'm going to do something amazing

Stupendous

I so want this on Youtube

Ok, here I go

Check this out

*

*

*

*

*

Ok, you better call an ambulance

Or something

My bone should not be sticking out like that

Maybe this video should go on failblog.com

Instead

:(

#136 Jesse the Poodle

The tumbleweeds rolled

And the wind blew

Dust in the air

Thick as stew

When came to town

A character of renown

It was the Texas Ranger

Jesse the Poodle

His hair was white

And he was quite a sight

As he ambled into the saloon

Ordering a water

And some kibble in a dish

We knew he was serious

Although a touch delirious

From the heat

And the dust

Caked on his feet

As he drank his drink down

He looked all around

And sized us up

One by one

He could tell who was yeller

As his eyes lit on a feller

Who winced

And looked at the ground

Sitting back in his chair

He brushed back his hair

Polished his badge

With a cloth backed with bone

Then facing the crowd

He said quite loud,

“I’m here to keep order

I’ll stay as long as it takes

To clean up this one poodle town”

But of course
All we heard him say was,
"Woof"

He was Jesse

Jesse the poodle

With guns in his paws

He upheld the laws

And ran the bad guys

Clean out of town

#135 Were Boys on the Loose

Lake Lansing lapped lazily

Upon the shores near where we played

My best friend Jeff and I

Finding adventure in the woods and water

We were equipped for anything

In sneakers and jeans

I think we had sticks too

You never know

What you might want to poke at

And on this day

We found something great

It was a dead turtle

We poked at it

We peered at it

We flipped it

We flopped it

Eventually

We decided to cut it’s head off

I swear I don’t know

Which one of us came up with the idea

We were eight years old

So really, could have been either of us

So I took my pocket knife

And snicked open the blade

A blade so dull

That no sane person would have used it

But, it still seemed like a good idea

We stretched out his neck on the ground

And I started sawing at it

Not much happened

Imagine rolling a piece of rubber around

With a butter knife

Then something made a crunching noise

And some goo came out the turtle’s mouth

That was enough for me

I dropped the knife

And threw up in the stream

Jeff may have laughed

He probably should have

We pushed the turtle back into the stream

To do whatever it is

That dead turtles do

And we walked back to his house

There were Lego masterpieces to build

Tents to set up

Dirt to move around

And probably a good snack waiting in the kitchen