Month: September 2024

Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid

Dressed in plaid in Baton Rouge
Wading on a drain
Feeling proud I’d dated Esma Jean
Bobby found a diesel van
Rusted, prearranged
To tow us all away to New Orleans

I sold my harpoon
For thirty red bananas
I’m sewing socks
While Bobby drinks the booze
Will she wipe her lap in time?
I’m holding Bobby’s dandelion
Wheezing every song Red Ryder knew

Reading’s just bunch o’ words:
“Your cousin’s vindaloo”
A muffin ain’t worth nothin’ if it’s free
Feeling good was easier
When Bobby shined her shoes
And only Kris Kristofferson could be
Good enough for Me and Bobby McGee

Bird Call

Many birds eat bugs, which I
Try not to do; a lot can fly,
And most that soar can also sing:
I struggle doing either thing.
Some birds run fast, while others dawdle:
Ducks are why a word like waddle
Isn’t cause to take your keys or
Make your friends think stroke or seizure
When you’ve used it at a bar
(Unless you’re waddling towards your car).
If caught evaluating tits
You’ll recognize the benefits
Of part-time ornithology
(Still, offer an apology).
Though some are mean or merely mirthless,
Nearly none are flat-out worthless.
All in all, I guess I’d say,
If it’s my call, then birds can stay.

Physical Therapy

Hi! Come on in. Are you alright?
I heard about that…thing last night.
Oh, whoa, your face went super white!

Sit down, sit down. I’ll move these…sit!
Here, drink this glass of Tab. That’s it,
Just…breathe. Good, you’re less pale (a bit).

No, no, I’ve no place else to be,
September’s pretty slow for me.
The equinox is trauma-free!

No, not for everybody, true,
And I can’t grok what you’ve been through
Unless you want to share. You do?

What have I heard? Well, there’s some buzz
That doesn’t make much sense because
There’s swimsuits, bikes and– what? There was?

And running shoes, as well? So, wait,
That’s three sports. Have I got that straight?
Three races on one midweek date?

You’d think the organizers must
Have seen the conflicts and discussed
The scheduling, or don’t they trust–

I’m sorry, what? Just one event?
You said that, but I thought you meant
You’d paid for three by accident.

Okay, I think I’m with you now:
You cycled, ran, and swam somehow
In one big…Frankenrace? That’s…wow.

I see…and then you ran some more?
Popsicle sticks? And they were for
Refreshments? Oh, for keeping score.

That’s interesting. You said the sun
Had set before your race was done…
What, nearly last? And still had fun?

No judgment! No, that’s not our deal.
What matters is, to you, it’s real.
And how does all this make you feel?

Oh my, that’s time. The hour flew!
Good work today. I’m proud of you
For facing what you needed to.

Embrace the healthy path you’re on!
You’ll laugh, when fifty years have gone,
About…[checks notes]…triathlon?

Before The Fall

I don’t feel that different. You?
Technically, we’re older, true,
And nearer winter now than spring,
But I’m not feeling anything
Remarkable, no seismic shocks
Attendant on the equinox,
Nor any humbling sensation
Presaging my expiration.
Yesterday was summer; autumn,
Welcome! You can kiss my bottom.

Never Did Write That Sonnet

The last day of summer’s upon us (again),
Its lease far too short to fit everything in
That we’d hoped to accomplish when planning ahead
Back in April and May. Looking forward instead
To the cool days of autumn and winter’s long nights,
We’ll keep warm misremembering summer’s delights
And concocting bold schemes for the green days of spring
When we’ll plan for next summer (and do everything).