Monthly Archives: November 2017

A Hamburger walks into a bar
The bartender says, Nice buns.

Beware of the flying deer
In the triangle
She will change your mind
About physics, biology and geometry.

Sometimes the candy is bitter.
Sometimes the schnaps is sweet.

We cannot be grass that grows
On both sides of the road
Sometimes the toilet paper truck
Gets ahead of the shit truck

Trees are the tooth pics of Gods
And we are the stuff between their teeth.
We fall out like popcorn on fire

The nervous tension of men
Fills the room with so much clutter
It feeds the Purple Hearts and beer googles

But There is a new energy coming
It grows beneath your nose
The breasts are filling with new milk
And
There will be enough for all this time.

Are you waiting to talk?
Are you waiting to listen?
What are you waiting for?

What’s inside your bottle?
Is it milk? Is it juice?
How much butter do you need
For your bread?

Like sheets on the bed
The windmills pull back the clouds
And reveal the sunshine

What does the new day
Bring for you.
Will you clean the floor.
Will you fix the fence.
Will you count the money.

We paint our ears with mud from the Farm
We practice the art of rolling down a hill together
When we raise our glasses
We look each other in the eye.
We hold each other this way.
We hold each other With our eyes.
And we listen with no concern
For when we speak again.