Thursday, June 27, 2013

“Ennui vs. Tattoos”

Well I’m old.
But I learned a thing or two.
The main thing being,
It’s easier to get marked than be marked.

Everyone is so consumed with ‘ISMS.
Lennon warned us in
“Give Peace a Chance”
Yet the deafness abides.

Listen children, listen-
Feelings linger, but they are real.
Tattoos are impulsive and lose their appeal.
Consider the lineage before you commit.

Being lonely and distraught is
NOT the same as having  a biker
Altamont singed on your buttocks.
Consider the results, please.

Be free, live the moment, feel the force
Rushing you through the framework
Accepted as your life.
Be not the slavish wife.

Get Pooh Bear tatted on your
Hundred Acre Wood, &
Admit that Who Killed Cock Robin
Is Irrevalent.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

“The Last of the Hat Creek Boys”

Gone are the moonlight riders,
Cowboys geared for prairie work-
Wearing boots that seldom shined,
Hats that four winds couldn’t budge.

Lost are the sounds of spurs a-jangle,
Cow-town saloons lighting the night,
Whiskey, cards, & Buffalo Gals
Wiling away the mirage of black velvet.

Forgotten are the bravehearts,
Their swagger now tempered with canes.
No longer the Kings of the range,
Faded into the backpages of old books.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

“Bada Bing! The Passing of a Soprano”

Silvio and Carm send regards-
Leaving as how you have Drop-
Kicked the slam start of summer.
Where is Gary Cooper, indeed?

Read your paper.
Watch the ducks
Swim endless circles
Cleansing their souls
In big blue.

Returned to Italy, in Italy.
Don’t stop believin’.
Abyssinia Tony.

Friday, June 14, 2013

“Mount Vernon”

Hills remember dreams,
Stones remember Queens,
No second renaissance here,
Yet all’s not quite as it seems.

Bottle of Old Crow,
Enjoyed during yard mow,
Wait for the Second Coming,
Hoping not to go below.

Don’t know the reason,
We sing so out of season,
No second act to show us,
Why freedom isn’t treason.

Secrets in the barn lot,
Lost virtues in the stew pot,
No second sight illuminates,
The last truth tribe, is forgot.

What to hate? What to Love?
All reason is a turtledove.
No second Son leads the way,
Colored lights hover above.

Enlightenment we seek,
One day of every week,
No second wind to buoy souls,
Spared the dire fate o’ Shoal Creek.

Here goes dear number seven,
Friday we’ll zumba in Heaven,
No second chance for Charlie Pride,
To dance & eat unleaven.

Monday, June 10, 2013


Thirteen days and no rain,
She holds the faded picture,
Imagining the swing over the creek,
The last race for a third-grade geek.

Spiders tutor textile workers,
Emotions learned via wikifeel,
How many days are revealed,
‘Til her shoulder meets the shield?

Bollywood celebrates misogyny.
The latest news crawl indicates,
Lasting sadness from her restraint.

Thirty minute infomercial,
Uninterrupted by any newsday,
The lost origin of caviar,
Drusilla appeal of a fast car.

Peeled. Cored. Eaten.
Lost between the folds.
Ironed out imagined wrinkles,
Invitation to a dance of twinkles.

Cinderella lived before guillotines,
Else the French would her have slain.
Whisper down the diving stream.
I am alive, and I am clean!

Thursday, June 6, 2013

“For Guinevere, Somewhere In a Rural Vale Trailer Park”

Don’t regret Act III of Macbeth,
Hold firm the picnic in the glade.
Walk out of the clouds
My daylight dream.

Work the noble sorrow,
Forget the temptations
The cottage porn industry
Tellico offers behind shuttered walls.

Lay your hands on my
Gravel heart, once granite obelisk.
Tour Reliance after dark,
In convertible farm trucks.

Open local cans of green beans,
Stuff them in fresh trout
Caught from the river where
Black men still fear to fish.

Spare the pained Pastor that
Martyrs his flock,
Leave the new highway for
Smart cars and Axis imports.

I sold my birthright
For a nightmare fantasy.
Don’t curse your prison,
Become its warden.

Breathe the wind,
Smile with the rain,
Warm the hollow
Knight’s chambers anon.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

"The House of Gooch"

The Gooch house has no birds.
Lady of the corner tear smiles
When flattered with a hot iron,
Serenaded with pennies sink plinking.

(She once had potential,
She once drew horses,
She once was Queen HC,
She once breathed freewill)

Dreams afford snatches of sanity,
The dawn brings renewed sadness-
Her husband’s welcome to the light
“You’re no love, just a placeholder wife.”

To sleep in silent lucidity, to find peace;
These goals Mahalia met for her muse.
Grey night shades gave way to last tragic day,
The Gooch house has no birds.

“Safety Glasses & Seat Belts, or Modern Values"

My Own Work Life

So I worked for a Pearl Harbor company
That had a figurehead minority leader &
The real disenchantment of the whole fa├žade
Was his only apparent concern of all the vast

Where are your safety glasses?
Where are your safety glasses?
Where are your safety glasses?

For the love of Peter, Paul, and Mary…
If our plant had blown up like U.S.S. Missouri,
The only question that would have been
Answered on the news & in the paper-whether
“He/she had their safety glasses on.”

My Own Driving Life

Run it down Haun straight
Over a hundred miles an hour
In a 6 banger pick-up.
Two wheels leaving the pavement,
Circling the A&W, funeral home burnouts.

Was the seat belt being worn?
Was the seat belt being worn?
Was the seat belt being worn?

Regardless of the floorboard Quaaludes,
Fake ID’s, THP maryjane, ripped mattress tags.
Trunks full of weevil wobbles and Rural Vale.
The news reports all focus on the
Wearing, or absence of, seatbelt rex.

(News Blurb)

“The truck struck three vehicles head-on before
Plummeting down a thousand-foot gorge
Into the only active volcano in Eastern Tennessee.
The driver was reportedly NOT wearing
A safety restraint, BUT he was wearing SAFETY glasses!”