limerick
Have you heard why the farmer named Cork
commandeered a short freight train in York?
When the hoboes from thar
dared reclaim their hay car,
they discovered the pitch of Cork’s fork.
December 1, 2019
Homeless Feral Cats,
Wandering around cities,
Know no love or compassion,
From human beings.
Dumpsters become their food bowls;
Car engines, often warm beds.
Occasional mouse
Or squirrel may make a meal;
Then again it may elude.
The dumpsters have more
Tasty entrees to savor;
Like eggs, beef, steak or chicken.
Wandering hoboes,
Are Feral Cats as sometimes
They’ll even hop a train car.
Hoboes and bamboo
Lay up in the green belt
Waiting for the romanticism of war
The hair of the dog
Doesn’t give up much more
Than a buzz that never ends
Somewhere a mother sheds a tear
For the son she lost in Vietnam
He came home but not to her
Every night he goes downtown
And drinks till dawn
Spends his days on a corner
With a sign asking to give
And a pocket full of blues
Anything will help
Lost souls MIA
Time can’t stop the fools
Who don’t believe that war
Scars the strong and the weak
Sitting in your car wondering
If it’s real
The whole damn town
Wonders
The whole damn town
Doesn’t give a damn
But someone should
Someone should ask the question
What’s a dollar to a hobo?
Means nothing to you
Could mean the world to him
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