I’m waiting for the bus.
Ain’t nothing to discuss,
ain’t no more dumbing-down.
You’re super-pissed-off-plus?
Well that makes two of us.
I’m heading out of town.
Ain’t no more fight or fuss
(who taught me how to cuss?)
Don’t want to stick around.
A little bar that sells cold beer,
that’s where I intend to steer,
or any place but here.
I need a change of atmosphere
and I ain’t gonna reappear:
the round-trip costs too dear.
I’m sitting at the stop
outside the betting shop,
and all I’ve got’s a song.
Yeah, do it. Call the cops.
There ain’t no crime called “swaps”.
Ain’t me who done you wrong.
Don’t mind them open-tops,
don’t matter where it drops:
first bus that comes along.
A word or two about my view of the politicians
we presumably put in positions of power
hobbyists bought and paid for under the table
catering to manipulating lobbyists by the hour
where saying nothing yet flapping their gums
offending no one when sitting on the fence
doing naught but wagging their tongues
and all the while protesting their innocence
dodging the bullet by ducking the question
avoiding the topic with digression
self-serving landing votes with glad-handing
fingers firmly crossed behind the back
conscience-free they sleep well at night
there's nothing (short of gun) can be done to keep them on track
those more than a few who are quite literally
caught red-handed with their pants down
making a mockery of you and me
should be tarred feathered and run out of town
Yesterday
We went on our first date.
Yesterday was great.
It is nice to see you smile.
You are radiant like water gleaming on the nile.
Too much time alone was wasted.
The past memories have faded.
Where do we go from here?
I can take you by the hand my dear.
Time can only tell.
You look gorgeous in yellow.
You found me from out of the crowd.
It was a wonderful night out of town.
We can walk upon the sand.
In the sun hand in hand.
You don’t have to be alone.
We can be together on a journey going towards the unknown.
You lift me up from the darkness.
You're the one that said yes.
There are no words to describe how I feel about you.
Face to face, I never want to let go.
The sky is clear.
From this point on, I am sincere.
Work Yourself To Death
I have known you for a while.
Sometimes you have to work out of town.
I know that you need rest.
Your job will work you to death.
I have been down this road.
You deserve a break, you know.
I’m not sure how to ask you out.
This job will put you under the ground.
Our occupation is unforgiven.
You work more than me, no kidding.
I would give you a hug if you let me.
You need time off because you're always on your feet.
The high and mighty don’t appreciate you.
Throw your hands up and say your through.
You need a place to escape.
Far away from this place.
One day you might find someone.
He could be at home waiting for ya.
You can’t work forever.
I would hold your hand with no pressure.
You don’t owe them anything.
I’m sorry that you have so much on your plate.
Roses are red,
Your smile is beautiful.
I would give you rest,
Under the moon.
The sun my awakening
a strip of asphalt shimmers
off somewhere in Nebraska
hundreds of miles from home.
Sandhills seen for the first time
I look at them with eyes of a child
but my body aches
as life springs forth
from underground streams.
Center lines are being painted
an arduous day of work promised
it always arrives too soon
but serene skies stretch to endless horizons.
My co-workers and I follow each other
to the meeting spot miles out of town
where we’ll ready ourselves for the assignment--
we’ve come from different stages in life,
I see a bison farm in the middle of nowhere
and must tell others about what I’ve seen
to the sound of nothingness at the spot we meet
and wispy clouds drift across the sky
such wonder shared, I feel it must be a story or poem.
At the end of the week, we say good-bye,
The family plot’s on cold pavement and hidden in grass,
but warm with familial heartbeats. Otherwise, the dead
become spectrals, fearsome at midnight.
—by poet
Cemetery Thoughts, Some Grave
Not dark and scary, slightly sunlit.
walked the pavement, not
like the unknown’s sentry,
but still deliberately,
in this quiet almost public space,
a location hidden from me,
though I stood right where I am
now - over Grandpa’s coffin.
Never thought of the placement,
why? We lived out of town.
My mom’s parents, too, reside
with my uncle, twenty-five -
who else? Great-grands, but to see
them, that is their stones, I had
to walk on grasslands and search.
Photos taken, for dates, for notes.
A former cemetery, so scary.
Us four highschoolers drove in.
It was a Winter’s midnight and snow
fell. Normal. Until we left and found -
it was snowing only on the hallowed grounds.
Hey there dope fiends,
It’s me, your addiction. The thing you can’t
live without. Your job has tied you to me.
The out of town family would think
something was all wrong if you didn’t stroke
me on a daily. My superficial voice lets them
know in no uncertain terms that you’re alive.
But they really don’t go past a shallow
scroll. Do they? Hits in small doses. I have
retrained you all with mediocre and you
didn’t even know it. Now go try and find
someone that can look you in the eye. Hold
a conversation for longer than 20 minutes.
Let me save you the time. I’ve made it nearly
impossible. As far as finding a way out? Try
to ignore me. Try and turn me off. You will
end up more isolated than you already are.
Either way I win. I always win. Why? I’m
always at your disposal. I am right there.
A lackluster substitute that lets you get away
with everything and never holds you accountable.
Now be sure to set that passcode.
You could never remember a full password.
Sincerely,
Well no one uses me to talk anymore.
Let’s change my name. Anyone game?
She smoked
She smoked,
my mother did, a LOT!
I never liked it.
To me she looked like
of those “molls” in
detective magazines,
later on television,
cigarette dangling
from the corner
of her mouth
acrid smoke
curling up (she didn’t inhale)
choking the air
as she played cards
or worked
at her desk.
To be sure,
there were “issues”
between husband and wife.
Mid-Great Depression
Dad out of work
or out of town for work
alone with
kids to manage
clothe and feed
with what?
So she smoked.
Small family Jewish
grocer let bills run up.
Smoking a comfort?
Housedresses, nothing new,
shoes needed for kids.
Teeth bad, pull them.
Children need dental care.
Sharp tongue cutting
no whining
“Just get on with it”.
Hurt, not understanding
we sulked. She smoked
Smoking and smoking
taking in relatives
with lost jobs, lost homes,
sick or in need, managing somehow
depressed (never admit it)
feeling put down,
frustrated, underrated
and underappreciated
never accomplished anything
worthwhile with her
college degree.
But, in her own way,
a saint in a housedress
Smoking away the grief.
It was on the 7th of May.
It was in the early part of the day.
He appeared but was never invited.
Upon seeing his kind, I was not delighted.
There were smaller ones I had seen,
But not this size since I was fifteen.
Slowly, around the corner, I saw him glide.
He then settled into his curl as if to hide.
I called a friend and learned that he was out of town.
I then called a relative who could not be found.
Years ago, I touched a large one as it lay in a hedge.
"He's harmless" are the words that my coworker alleged.
Now, 60 years later, a large one had glided onto my patio.
Of this I was certain: He could not stay but had to go.
I then quickly reached for a hoe and a stick for my defense.
That snake was in the wrong place; Of this I was convinced.
Indeed, I was a little afraid and taken aback;
But my fear quickly switched into a mode of attack.
050325PS
Down that back road
that heads out of town
across the railroad tracks
past the water treatment plant
in a mobile home park
where howling dogs are
hooked with logging chains
to blue plastic
55 gallon drums
I see your eight kids
playing in your front yard
some in diapers
some in tidy whiteys
all of them shoeless
and shirtless
8” tall grass
littered with broken toys
beer cans
whiskey bottles
cigarette butts
a lawn mower with three wheels
an old refrigerator
and a couch
with the cushions missing
your driveway filled
with your shiny red
Ford F250 truck
fishing boat
motorcycle
an empty box
that held an 80” TV
leaning against
your overflowing
trash can full of used
lottery tickets
and PBR boxes
not everything can
be blamed on
the government
endless in my mind’s eye
endless like memories
reflections of love
and desires felt
since I was a child
now I drive the highway
drifting clouds are islands
and they reflect the sun
as if the day has just begun
a river flows by my side
people in the diner reminisce
about how life changes
but still goes on
and children eager
to move out of town
end up living
their parents’ lives
talk of politics and taxes
in convenience stores and bars
makes philosophers
out of farmers and wives
and we make up stories
about what we cannot understand
on a quiet walk on a path
I take in all I can
and time is never lost
This old road is wearing me down
7 more miles and I will be out of town
Ain’t got no wagon, and holes in my boots
Darn me; if the weather never suits
Yeah
This old road is wearing me down
7 more miles and I will be out of town
Heading westwards looking for work
No matter my dress code, I’m ain’t no shirk
Yeah
This old road is wearing me down
7 more miles and I will be out of town
50 dollars gets me a good days pay
Cutting, and raking in this darn hay
Yeah
This old road is wearing me down
7 more miles and I will be out of town
Getting me some rest under this old oak tree
Whilst playing my guitar on my knee
Yeah
This old road is wearing me down
7 more miles and I will be out of town
Then heading home before the setting of the sun
Back tomorrow, a poor man's work is never done
Yeah
This old road is wearing me down
7 more miles and I will be out of town
When I was a child I had heard it told
At the end of a rainbow there's a pot of gold.
Then one day I seen a rainbow in the sky
It seemed to call to me i knew I had to try
So I headed out of town with gold on my mind,
With my eyes on the sky, my riches I would find.
I was oblivious to the world or where I was going
Then the rainbow vanished without me knowing.
As I looked around, it was behind me now
I must have passed it but I don’t know how.
I took off running to find my treasure again
As I was getting close and I noticed it then.
The rainbow had ended right there at home
I didn’t need my travels. I never had to roam.
The riches I found that brought my life pleasure
Was the love of my family that I'll always treasure.
My friend, so much like a brother to me,
has met me in these woods where we like
to hunt for pesky animals we see.
I’ve brought my bow and arrows on this hike.
Because I’ve known this friend most of my life,
I have confided to him I believe
some man is paying visits to my wife
while I am out of town. I’m not naive!
Something he has told me now gives me pause.
I’m at a cliff. He’s somewhere at my back.
I lift my bow and turn around because
I hear him running . He’s on the attack.
He’ll shove me off this cliff and watch me die?
In an instant, I let an arrow fly.
He hid his Draconian side from her
She was a Pollyanna, her heart pure
Her family disliked him immediately
His serpent-like qualities most of them could see
He whisked her away, out of town and state.
Chastised and chided her if she was missing or late
She had to give away her family and friends.
No one ever knew when or where her journey ends.
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