Best Bibs Poems

Toilet Bowl Committee (aka: Uptown Hood)

A lavatory confinement
my$h!tdontstinkcomode.com
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If you want to moderate this place, pick up the pace
From the mouth down to the @$$
Your so...

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Woman 
legs ~ breasts ~ thighs 
hips ~ lips ~ eyes 

Man 
strength ~ muscled ~ arm 
masculine ~ grit ~ charm 

Children 
fun ~...

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Kittens In The Barn

He stops and removes his boots before opening the door.  He enters the kitchen and smells the familiar aroma of morning...

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First you learn to crawl around
Then give a step a chance
Bit by bit you learn to talk
And not to wet your pants

When it’s time to...

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Sworn to secrecy, she told me it had been a long time..
as we sat swinging in a hammock in the late day sun.

'What., are you...

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EMPTY PEWS
These seats have stories and if they could talk
You would hear of the lives that many people walk
The church filled on each weekly Sunday...

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Remembering Mrs. Sully always makes my face break out into smiling mode.
Her face was as craggy as a grave, there was an aluminum tooth on...

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The lollipop lady and laborer,
Driving to work we can see who it is.
In bright fluoro orange and yellow
Retro reflective people wearing high vis.

There’s vests and...

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Flaming steaks and ice cold drinks
you thought good food had become extinct
until you ate here and gave us a nod and a wink.

Appetizers galore with...

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Now the wedding had drawn to a close the ceremony past
We found ourselves together and thankfully alone at last

We packed our bibs and bobs into...

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In our town lived a crazy old crone
with no spouse, and her kids were all grown.
Once frightened by rats,
she bought a few cats,
so no longer...

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Fried Turkey

Inject with beer, Chow Chow and liquid Cajun seasoning two days before frying
Old shirts or bibs and a roll of paper towels per person...

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There was something spectacular
about a winter, long and hard,
on the Miles River.
Some days will never be the same.

Greying skies, heavy hung
with crystal burdens
of the wind,...

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A strainer for milk or for juice, a window shade
Worn as bibs, diapers, or a kerchief
Turned into skirts, blouses and slips
Plaited into rugs of many...

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So you think you are a poet,
but your work, it don’t show it

Lots of Yeats and Shakespeare 
rip offs; Wordsworth aped, many 
spin-offs

Puerile nonsense, bibs...

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