I'm the sheriff and my name is Rosco P. Coltrane.
People in Hazzard know that the P is for pea-brain.
I work for Commissioner Jefferson Davis Hogg.
He hates the Dukes and he also hates my dog.
I usually get a cut of the take from my fat brother-in-law.
I love his evil schemes and I love to pinch his flabby jaws.
Everybody knows that I'm a bumbling sheriff, I'm sure not a genius.
I can't catch those Duke boys and neither can my dipstick deputy Enos.
After wrecking all of those patrol cars, I was pretty damn lucky to survive.
But my character came to an end anyway when the Dukes of Hazzard was cancelled in 1985.
(This poem was inspired by the Dukes of Hazzard TV show.)
Cats At Their Bowls Lapping
This time there’s a postscript:
“If ever I cook dinner for you,
it will be Coquilles St. Jacques
and Jefferson Davis Pie.”
Imagine Angela,
after all these years,
rising and gliding
to check on my pie,
wouldn’t that be something?
Angela, come to Chicago,
and bring all of your cats.
I’ll watch those cats
in your lap napping,
you in my lap napping,
the cats at their bowls lapping,
and I in my chair laughing.
Angela, bring all of your cats
and come to Chicago
to make Coquilles St. Jacques
and Jefferson Davis Pie.
Donal Mahoney
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