Wednesday, January 28, 2009
to dabble in materialism,
when juxtaposed by
with common interests.
It's the few
who belong to you
and the necessary.
the winding dreamroad
that's not crafted by man.
It's getting over
my manic hold on "safe"
and fears' manic hold on me.
Monday, January 26, 2009
(whistle to the tune of the Beverly Hillbillies)
Come and listen to a story about a man named Ben
A poor lit-majer, not a book he hadn’t read,
Then one day he was stopping for some food,
And there behind the counter was the mother of his brood.
Adina, that is, at Subway, with lots of spunk.
Well the first thing you know ol Ben’s got hitched,
Baby came along, whole schedule got switched.
Said, “Gonna teach that girl to say Hola!”
They looked at the map and picked
City, that is. 70 degrees, year round.
Well its time to say adios to Ben and all his kin.
And if you got a prayer to spare, go on, drop it in!
They’ll be back to show off the grandkids
And have a heapin’ helping of all their relatives.
Grandparents that is. And aunts and uncles, too, and alllll the rest!
Don’t fergit about us, y'hear?