I wish humans were
more like trees
and every autumn
we turned a beautiful
golden hue and
parts of us fell off
indiscriminately.
.
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The don martin prophecies
Dr. Fonebone believed
the world would end
not with a whimper or a
honk, or a dribble,
or a gonk.
Not a fagroon klubble,
or a snip and a snap,
but with a little bit of each
and a final
plop! flabadap.
.
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Notes from underground
Growing up,
we had a foxhole in our backyard.
Several of them, actually.
***
I was always very curious
and checked them many times
for atheists. But no luck.
Not one was to be found.
***
All I could find was a family of cute foxes.
***
Suffering
the
long
dark
night
of the
soul.
.
2.
.featured reader
Winnie (age 14)
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Degrees
What is hot?
We use that same word to
describe weather, coffee
and lava.
Two are hot but the third
is extraordinarily hot.
***
I guess what I am trying to say is
***
maybe the perfect sign
warning of hot lava, would
be of a guy whose head
has turned into a factory whistle.
.
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The cosmic tragedy
I cannot but feel sorrow
when I remember
one hundred and seventeen
billion human beings
have lived and died
without ever getting a
chance to try my
famous potato salad.
.
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The jockey
I saw an old horse jockey
riding a carousel
and I asked him,
“Is it as it was?”
***
The old jockey just smiled
a jockey smile, and said,
“This is as far as I ever got.”
***
At his words,
the carousel
began its slow finish.
***
And the old jockey
leaned back on his horse
and said,
“Whoa.”
.
.
turn off. turn on. turn ip.
Trefology
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B.C.
It was long thought
that adventure was
the spice of toast.
But that was in the
days before the
discovery of cinnamon.
.
TREFOLOGY
READ. FOLLOW. PROSELYTISE
.
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Merch of time
Growing up, all of us kids
knew the stories of the
ghostly Lady in White.
***
The Lady in White was said
to roam the woods near
our house and surprise hikers
by jumping out from behind
a tree and firing a
t-shirt gun at their head.
***
As the legend goes, the hikers
would be found days later,
pale, hungry, shivering and
wearing a t-shirt that read:
“I got surprised by the Lady in White.”
.
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Promoted Ad
The Four F’s
***
Say, pardner, have you been
wondering where you can
wrassle-up the best bowl
of canned Spaghetti-O’s
in the West?
***
Well, Cowpoke,
quit yer stupid wonderin’,
because the answer lies at
the Chef Boyardee factory
in Milton, Pennsylvania!
***
Guaranteed the farmin’est,
freshest, fra-sauciest
bowl of Spaghetti-O’s
this side of the Pecos.
Or my name isn’t George Raymond!
***
And, hey —
when you get there,
be sure to tell ’em
George sent you.
***
And if they ask you
who George is — tell ’em,
***
“A beautiful, beautiful man.”
.
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.
Firewater65 has written a
poem in the spirit of Trefology.
And I, for one, am here to say,
“It’s about time somebody did.”
***
Click here to read.
***
Or here.
***
But not here.
Long time passing
The Kingston Trio
never sang the verse
“Where have all the corn chips gone?”
because they knew
damn well where they
had gone.
.
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