It’s like I’m carrying everyone’s mail.
Even the junk mail.
And also a lung for transplant.
Which failed.
When you’re depressed?
You get sliced and spliced.
Like a dead body for transplant.
Almost like apples for apple pie.
Which was botched with too much cinnamon and goo.
Can’t uncook it.
That’s the issue with depression.
You can send a lung to someone and it’s ruined somehow.
Or send the most annoying junk mail ever and it makes it every time.
They blame me either way.
God
Makes no junk, invites us to create
Love....
Life can so often be unexpectedly amusing
Perhaps not so if you are into self abusing
Today its five am with headlight I'm on my usual daily run
I encounter a well dressed tall man a white shirt adorns his back
he rides a pushbike which is parked in a bicycle rack
I notice what I assume to be a cigarette is held within his hand
He gestures toward me It takes a moment before i understand
Would you like a puiff at first I thought him drunk
I realise its dope. No thank you I'm not into inhaling junk
Have you never ever tried he says . No
Me with long white hair and beard barefoot he says you look like you do
Too many words and syllables now to form a monoku
I also tell him I don't drink alcohol coffee only eat food raw
Whats your age he says Seventy eight
You're looking good quite impressed with what he saw
Now this is not the first time that I have encountered
due to my appearance this assumption you look like you do
Tapped on the shoulder from behind many years ago
Where do we get some hooch in this town we're new
What a weird life.
In this unincorporated outer space.
The swingset that floated over yonder.
I got younger with smells of lavender.
I got the sweetness in my eyeball.
Undressed feelings like whatever is in bubblegum.
What’s a weird life?
If every move is drastic yet floating like a dismembered piano?
Like magnets over there, and over there too.
Sounds cramped in outer space.
Like a spider whistling.
What a weird life.
There’s countless types of life out there.
This one is leftover for me.
Space junk.
Two defining features
set man apart from sheep
And every other creature
that fly or swim or creep
Have you ever seen an animal
that daily cooks its chow
Humans are the only ones
be it vegies chooks or cow
A magpie with a microwave
that really is a laugh
To eat a roasted worm or two
not ever cut in half
And what is the outcome
of all this processed junk
The plastic fills the oceans
and the land is full of gunk
Sickest of them all
is the man who makes the mess
Disregarding all the species
he couldn't care much less
Is extinction on the cards
for all that does exist
Try hard to treat the world with love
don't be a pessimist
Rust dust
Blow gust
Bad lust
Just just
Bout bust
I have accumulated a plethora of junk
can’t we get rid of some of this? asked my sweet hunk.
It has overspilled out into the barn and yard now.
irritating our pig, chickens, donkey and cow.
What goes up must come down
or so they do say
and what goes around comes around
or at least it's on the way
meanwhile I'll bide my time
to see if what goes down does come up
altho' I highly doubt it
for in the case of Titanic
there's no two ways about it
and let's see what it takes
to make snowflakes rise again
the same goes for drizzle
hail sleet and rain
but what about man's junk in space
some returns some stays in place
but who are those expert 'they'
and who knows what gave them the right
to advance the twaddle they do say
Yeah, I know ~ my poetic output contains a fair bit of junk.
But then ~ even God created something called a skunk.
In the works of all unparalleled thinkers,
you can expect quite a few stinkers.
Most attempts at art never attain great heights ~
most just immediately go ~ kerplunk.
I don't take myself too seriously.
If ever I did, it was only deliriously.
I'm a straight, middle of the road kinda guy,
with an IQ neither too low ~ nor too high.
And as to whether I'll ever do anything significant in my life ~
please stand by.
there was an old man named Ford
who thought history was absurd
he said it was all bunk
then his company produced a junk
and the Edsel historically became the car most abhorred
My mingle-mangle mismash mixed bag of stuff
Is a pastiche, potpourri, patchwork of remnants rough
The accumulation of this junk was not so very tough
Feather dusters, ink wells, rulers, silver links of cuff
Pincushions, a beaver tail, old Spice, smelly snuff
Nails, shoe polish, tape, puffer that does not still puff
Potholders, elf statue, rags to give car a buff
Petrified cinnamon roll, please don’t give me guff.
~ A Little Post-Election Humor Never Hurts ~
Old McDonald’s had a roadside stand
“Make America Eat Junk-Food Again”
And at that roadside stand was RFK
eating processed food, Ole!
Old McDonald’s had a kiosk too
“Make America Throw Up Again”
And at that kiosk was DJT, version two
With Elon Musk, his 'new best friend’ ...
Now Old McDonald’s has a new lease on life
Just don’t expect to see Melania there, Trump’s wife
But – and this may surprise the ‘H’ out of you
I hear Barron’s got a hankerin’ for Mickey D’s mouth-watering
~ ‘filet of horse stew’
huggermugger jinglejangle
of mishmashed stuff
land in the junk drawer
amid pencils and sandpaper rough
I sorted it a month ago
down to sixteen mere things
now there is pink playdough
blue ribbons and six gemstone rings
cleaning it is fruitless
a wasted effort to me
I refuse to take total blame
and watch a bit more TV
Gnomes toss stuff in there
in the middle of the night
other times I put things in
to get them out of sight.
junk drawer clean-up is scheduled today
tape
ribbons
rubber bands
pencils
pens
rulers
small notebooks
matches
candles
bungee cords
dog collar
flashlight
wrench
pliers
scissors
maple syrup packets
I need all of these things I think
as I shut the drawer.
the multifariousness of my junk drawer
holds secrets, stories, gadgets, humor, and much more
bungee cords, cameras, pliers, tape and string
a rubber chicken leg, buzzer bell with an ominous ring
hard cinnamon roll, which fell in yesterday
blue yoyo, ketchup packet, a tiny nosegay
such a variety of goodies I have to admit
if my mother saw it, she would have a fit.
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