Prison Work Call

Here's a story that must be told,
listen carefully as this saga unfold.
It's just after lunch, the clock says 1:30,
here comes theofficer saying let's get dirty.
That's what what he says to see who all will fall,
the man thing he's saying is time for work call.
I put that in to give you an idea,
cause the time to pick up butts is here.
On tuesday guess what, we cut the grass,
most guys are willing the others say I'll be last.
Then on Thursday we cut it again,
these folks are truly insane.
Grass doesn't grow that fast even in the rain.
The grass couldn't get cut any lower,
cause we were pushing a Flintstone mower.
There is no height or width adjustment,
you just turn around when you hit cement.
That's right push till you hit the sidewalk,
wait on the last man while you have a lil' talk.
Unless your lead man is going in circles,
that's what happens to work call workers.

T.W.I.S.T.
JLM
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

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Devonshire Avatar
June 20, 2009 at 4:11 PM
This is so funny, Jimmy Lee! I love the part about the "Flintstone mower." Send that work crew my way! I'd love to watch them walk in circles, hit the sidewalk and then start mowing again a couple days later. You had me laughing out loud. Great poem! Love, Carolyn
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