Call me pack horse…Sunday Oct. 19, 2014 / Nottingham, UK #SchwervonPoetry

Call me pack horse
Call me living dream
Call me quiet strange lady
Sitting a cross from me on the train
Call me a liar.
She wasn’t strange at all
Actually quite nice.
But she did refer to herself as short.

Giant cranes swing their
Giant steely beaks
Through the air
Slicing through a Shepard pie sky
Dousing the clouds in a thick
Warm industrial gravy

I hear tale of an old model ship
That hasen’t been dusted
For a many many years
For fear that the chosen janitor
Be struck down dead
just like the last several in the past

Love is a test that you never fail
Stop trying to memorize
Start fighting bees

Pumping things up to win
Lambs on the prairie drinking cider
Waving at a bullet as it passes by
Is there a doorman at the gates of hell
Checking OD’s ?
Measuring the with of you sores

No shortage of green pastures around here
No shortage of rain
The rain comes and then it goes
Just like the sun

 (This poem was originally recited at Spanky Van Dykes on October 19, 2014 in Nottingham, UK)


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