6x6
6 x 6 on my way
to 6 feet down...
I live in a tent on the sidewalk,
near main and 7th.
Just down the street there are courthouses.
That is where they dispense the law.
They tell people what is right and what is wrong,
and how to follow along.
Yet the story does not end
but bends around and twists back.
The summer of love gone wrong.
It is an old song, sung by trolls,
that live in high towers,
and eat well.
None can spell or even read,
but they do know how to feed.
Votes for better times,
eaten up by slimes,
that live in the garden
turned to a desert,
but not a dessert for any.
Just a penny,
in the can to buy beans
again.
Categories:
courthouses, addiction, allegory, angel, good
Form: Free verse
Digging through old ledgers seems a drudge
But searching for long-lost ancestors is fun,
The LDS Church can give you a helpful nudge
For they have records on almost everyone.
Dim documents in out-of-the-way courthouses
Include dusty old ledgers of marriage licenses,
You can discover names of parents and spouses
If you can spare time traveling long distances.
Good information comes from grandparents
Who may possess a well-documented Bible,
But, don’t underestimate your own parents
Close families tend to be exceptionally tribal.
It’s fun learning the exploits of your ancestors
Relating them to your understanding of history,
Far back you could be kin to some court jesters
You never know what you’ll find in your ancestry.
written March 9, 2022
Categories:
courthouses, family, grandparents, parents, relationship,
Form: Quatrain