Saturday, July 28, 2012


if we had a bucket of words
and a bucket of turds
would we feed the words
to the turds
or feed the turds
to the words
we would then punctuate 
the golden gate
separate the oats from the corn
strike a match to celebrate
blame the whole damned mess
on a witches trait 
what do we do now
wait around
'til the witch burns the barn down
it's like having sex with a clown

"The wood are lovely, dark, and deep,
but I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."

Robert Frost
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

bang, bang, bang!
just another gavel
directing traffic
up a side road
but back roads pending
dirt and gravel

part of the  whole;
the part
which ate my soul!

what the hell do you know?
hell, it ain't your soul!
you never know,
I may just dig a hole. 

okay, roll me over
but roll me slow.

ya, me, a good many years ago.
I won't say how many.


  1. I'd be sure to flush the turds! Ha! Ha! But I might rather have lunch with the clowns instead! :) I just am fascinated with this design! Very cool!
    and I so enjoyed your poem too!

  2. Thank you, Karen. That photo is from the "Buffalo Chip" at Sturgis, Sd. A motorcycle engine. Rally starts soon.