Routinely, like clockwork, like every morning,
I walk to my drive way and enter my pickup.
I start the engine and turn on the radio.
Immediately, horrific and unbelievable news.
I head off to work, not knowing what to expect.
I stare across the airfield of an airforce base.
Not the least surprised, airplanes are grounded.
I arrive at work in wonderment.
Our work highly depends on airplanes.
Today is a none typical 911 work day.
We are instructed to perform our normal
duties of pickups and deliveries, except,
'Do not take cargo to airport but report to
The yard at end of route'.
The pretty campus damsel
Is on the rove this nigh night
She easily ropes in loaded men
As she gyrates her curvy bosom
Her Torrie's remind one of nivarna
And you can see Catalonia peaking
From the little black dress she wears
She undaunted that we are on campus
With girlies being on plentie Barbie rules
And ensnares with ease and natural charm
She's a beauty to behold and loves dances
On the dance floor she easily baits boys
Be they boys or men her nature easily snares
As long as you're pickups are loaded
You are enroute to this exiting encounter
Falcon heights are soars and shores you win
With her you will sure taste the allures of
Zamzam that beautiful city of beauty
Tasting what is the reserve of demigods
Hoping you are not eternally damned
For love is but a divine thing and sensual
Sensualized forbidden pleasures she wares
Sue wanted her cats to see Italy, Paris and London too
Wished to smuggle them in suitcases, but they both mew.
You could hitchhike from country to country, someone suggested.
His idea was a horrible idea, rides were few, bad ones manifested.
They spent time in back of pickups with cows, goats and mice.
Or in cages upon car tops, which did not feel very nice.
The next time, I might have to leave you at home, said Sue.
They were appreciative and gave her their most appreciative mew.
Four faces
ten cows
40 people
a river runs through it
Aberdeen Rapid City Sioux Falls
crops of corn soybeans
hog factory ethanol highway interstate
flat plains shadow of Rockies
sparse vast country music cowboy hats
pickups tractors American flag whackos
jacks coyotes
buffalo paddlefish grasshoppers deer crows
vulture walleye pheasants otters cattle grain
green sky derecho buffalo
ghost towns railroad
Homestake mine caves peaks
tribes pioneers reservation farms
million Big Siouxland
crickets chirp
plains old west
motorcycle rally August
blizzard snow hot humid
It sits out in your driveway
a glittering metallic sculpture.
It costs more than your house,
you love it more than your spouse.
You can hardly drive it, it’s too high,
you can barely park it, it’s so wide.
Like an exotic compulsion, you need it,
though you can barely afford to feed it.
There’s a cockpit with winking tech,
offering a printer, wi-fi and refrigeration.
It can pull a house off its foundation.
Is there a tendentious ecological statement,
in this prestigious resource you need for work
is the fact that it’s tax deductible just a perk?
With this polished and pampered machine,
you get the rewards of effective parenting,
as it literally reflects the care that it’s given.
It’s a spaceship ready for expedition,
what else in creation is as elysian,
as your gigantic pickup truck.
.
.
songs for this:
Dreamin’ by G. Love and Special Sauce
Driving by Everything but the Girl
Little Deuce Coupe by Andrew Gold
Pickups and drop offs
no one likes angry drivers
long hauls sleepy guys
Part 2:
To the Inn
This is "the meaning", the miss with no clue. For a kiss when you're down and the out is in view. There is waiting in watching with no passing bye. Like listen and loving that binds every sigh. For pickups and let downs, He's down with each every road. With his sorrow and secrets to lighten your load. So many and marvel, He's a man on the go. To leave every fact(or) near the road Jericho. To find an each with AN always past the parts plus the lies. There to find a Dear Stranger who will always look in your eyes.
trash
putrid, unwanted
wasting, littering, disposing,
pickups, accumulations, wealth, coffers
admiring, cherishing, adoring
valuable, precious
treasure
Date written: 11/06/2022
Mariah needed to get to the Hollywood Hills
She recognized this mission was her destiny
Tell everyone her mother encouraged her
It was 1974, when rides were free
She hitchhiked from Ohio to California
Singing folk songs with strangers
In VW buses, muddy farm pickups,
She spent fifty-six minutes in a limousine.
The weather became warmer, almost balmy.
Sorry about the Santa Ana winds the natives apologized.
Mariah stood on her tippy toes, letting the winds blow her shirt.
She had never been this excited in her life.
This was a magical place, a haven away from ice and snow.
She could sleep on the street, there was no wind chill of sixteen below.
Do you want to just stay here by yourself? Her last ride asked her.
He was an older man, in designer clothes.
Why not? She said. I am in heaven here, Nirvana.
He offered her twenty dollars, but she said the ride was enough.
She was living her dream, riding the wave of enthusiasm.
So happy, she knew she could fly!
Acoustic Guitar
My fingers dance on the slender body
I am harmoniously in love with it
It's always there to resonate my heart
I get drowned in its soft chords
Away from the world, in the parterre
We both go string labelling
With pronounced active pickups
It's semitones enter the fathoms of my soul
Contest-Music to my soul.
Spoñsor-Laura Loo.
O Ye what are you waiting for?
Fly on the wings of hope,
This sky is waiting for you
The shadow is fed up of staying
Fly on fly on until you reach your goals
Obstacles are milestones to cross
Determination is a shield of dreams
Make courage your ally
Go past the mountains and valleys
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Start may look awkward
Initial hiccups will be pickups
You will master the art of killer instincts
Worries will evaporate with distinct
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Nothing is too big or small
Destination is giving you the call
If you fall then rise up again
Show your back to the walls
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Time is waiting to salute you
History is waiting to write for you
Books are waiting to catch your story
Your name will find place in the golden glory
You will be immortalized in everyone’s memory
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Spurs still jingle on booted feet,
And no one turns to stare.
"Howdy" is heard on any street -
Laughter's everywhere.
Old pickups are the wheels of choice -
Beats autos ten to one.
Horse trailers give the streets a voice
Where patchin' ain't been done.
On Friday nights the town is closed,
If football's bein' played.
The one main street is bein' hosed
While cheers are bein' made.
A skinny yellow dog walks 'round
Needin' to find some shade.
The dusty little one street town
Is hot as God has made.
He eyed the flagpole in the square
No shadow could he see
He raised his leg an' aimed it there
"You ain't no help to me".
He laid down in the sand and dust,
His chin upon his paw.
He yawned and thought,"My kind of town -
Beats all I ever saw."
10/31/2016
For contest My Kind Of Town
It was "Girls' Night Out"
At the local watering hole
So my bestie and me
Headed there at a stroll.
A crisp autumn night
And we both wore our furs
I joked she was a copycat
Saying she should change hers.
She stopped in her tracks
Her stare cut like a sword!
"It was only a joke!"
And then we both roared!
We got to the bar
And I held the door wide
Truly never expecting
What was to happen inside.
"We don't serve HER kind"
The barkeep sneered at me
"You can come in
But set that dog of yours free!"
Here I must tell you
I live in a town
With rednecks and pickups
And nothing much brown.
My friend was from Asia
Her coloring too strange
For these bigoted, brainless
Rejects from the grange!
My friend showed her teeth
Not exactly a grin
And one big guy in a wife beater
Stood up and moved in.
Before I could blink
Or throw a good punch
My friend ate that cowboy
Like some tasteless lunch!
And the others raced out
Slipping on fallen beer foam
So I sighed and began calmly
Walking my tiger home.
Chicago's been dubbed the windy town,
but Great Falls has that tag nailed down.
If you're facing Montana's fierce wind,
you're moving where you didn't intend.
Prairie grass rolls like ocean waves,
tumbleweed mounds resemble graves.
Aspen leaves' fluttery swirls abound,
scarcely settling their golden mound.
Longhorns stay bunched within a draw,
hoping the wind will soon lose claw.
Snow gusts into drifts high and wide,
pickups and hay-balers shrouded inside.
Who sent this wild, careless wind
the bronco busters cannot unbend?
This, I suppose, could be left unsaid:
Keep those Stetsons jammed on your head!
Quickly wake up, shower and shimmy
You're late for work and kids for school!
Eventually arriving, settling into the routine
Suddenly you realise you forgot something at home!
All's a mess, again you overslept!
Traffic's just crazy, your hairs a disaster
Barely time to breathe, let alone eat!
Afternoon pickups, late for hockey practice
Its homework and laundry, then off to bed
Awaiting the bustle that's sure to aggravate!
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