We Were Hemingways

Most of my friends are dead now,

We lived just like Hemingway;

Thinking all intellectuals smoked,

Living shit-faced every day.

We weren’t the products of parents,

Or the meanest grade school nun,

Trading instead, the theatrical hit,

For a thrill packed, short lived run.

None of my friends were famous,

Or even published when they died,

Yet each of them carried volumes

Detailing one hell of a ride.

Otis' Three Plaid Winter

Independent for Life

As far back as I remember,

I never followed the crowd.

Voting for the fairest man,

Always loving to laugh out loud.

I dreamed of being famous,

Yet I was happiest alone…

A terrific dog, a friend or two,

The main ingredients of my home.

My proudest life accomplishment:

Remaining true unto myself…

Until the day SSI kicked in

When I retired on the shelf.

Irrational Onsets

August 17^th, nineteen seventy-seven,

Flying in a Hughes’ yellow plane…

Seatmates sobbing over the paper,

One woman cried out Elvis’ name.

Sudden hydraulic problems,

While learning all legends die…

I landed safely  in the perfect storm

Yet from then on, afraid to fly.

I had a second leg to go,
But so happy to kiss the ground...
I sought safety in a Hertz Ford Pinto, 
The most dangerous car all around.

Autumnal Dread

The arrival of fall is an ominous sign,

It’s more than a year, a week or a day…

Another new chapter in time for me,

The leaves fall, the sun fades away.

Hopefully, winter will be kind

Granting me a bit longer stay

To tear off more calendar pages,

Walking further into the grey.

A Fragile Peace

You could hear the trouble brewing,

Faint whispers in the wind…

None of us predicted however,

The chaos poised, and ready to begin.

It might have been a rumor,

Or an egg arrogantly tossed…

Emotions, like bombs, exploded

All tranquility was lost.

Their numbers swelled on both sides,

New soldiers flew in with each breeze…

An epic battle had begun;

The crows at war in the Locust trees.