Monday, June 14, 2010
Ada Jo, get your shit together,
I’m biking to the island tonight!
Put that teddy in the saddle bags,
You’re coming with me, no fight.
We can make it to Sturgis by winter,
Rent a trailer, just me and you…
Live naked, down some eight balls
Then get a Hell’s Angel’s tattoo.
You’re all I ever wanted,
My fantasy in black leather;
After we get settled down,
We’ll call your husband or...whatever.
Friday, June 11, 2010
It’s so incredible chemicals ruled me,
I fancied myself young and smart.
My lusts aimed at various targets;
I considered my moves an art!
Now older, these conquests useless;
I was a robotic, hormonal slave…
Still wishing I’d held on to another,
While supporting mistakes to the grave.
There is a beauty in growing old,
Body’s programs decrease with age,
Chemical breakdown, lust is dead,
Now the truth erupts on every page.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Stockton bad boys water skied,
Then tip-toed into the slums…
We donned tuxedos for the dance,
Bought our liquor from street bums.
Our homes had heated private pools,
Yet we swam irrigation ditches,
Our fathers were the councilmen,
Mothers wore the ties and britches.
We dined in the finest restaurants,
Too young for their first class bars,
Preferring to park on levees,
Getting shit-faced in our cars.
There was something about the valley,
That held us year after year.
Brave boys purchased plane tickets,
The content, just bought more beer.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
But once in our life, we walk the line
Falling to the side of the road,
Where hitchhikers die of starvation,
The motorists, seeing only a toad.
But once in our life we hold out hope,
Soldiers break down the walls at the forts
Recognizing a true living history,
Like Braille, reading our warts.
But once in our life, we still dream,
True love ignores our old age,
Where a stranger’s soul now among us,
Enters, on life’s center stage.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
In their backyard was a doghouse.
Farley spent hours there alone,
Anticipating when Old Brown
Returned his master home.
His doghouse was a prison,
Guarded by a leash of leather,
Farley lived with desperate hope
He’d be released soon from his tether.
Farley pined so in the doghouse,
He’d memorized every board;
Waiting to see his master,
In Old Brown, the one-eyed Ford.
Friday, June 4, 2010
If I could stop all dying,
So both enemies could live,
I would witness once, true freedom,
Were peace, my gift to give.
If I could halt the north winds,
What ravage my life and beach,
I’d live in absolute splendor,
Were calm seas within my reach.
If I could stop dying honey bees,
Our fathers lost in the mine,
I’d grant everyone eternity,
Were I in control of time.