A Decade Ago

 A decade ago I was told what my shadow looked like.

~

A decade ago a bitch of spades was an anomaly.

~

White

In the white house lived eight ghosts.

To one it was one too many.

He stat with a frown.

These aren't my people.

It's time to leave town.

I must travel, explore! I must find a new home.

He said as a foggy morn was gaining.

They moved the furniture yet again

and my haunting skills are waning.

It has been a riot, I must admit

when calls to war put the house in a snit.

But when mine for peace are met with

The buzzing of boxes then pictures alit

I know, I know. It' my time to git.

Nay, nay! The others would say.

Who will wake us when trouble is brewing?

You mustn't go. You are important today.

We love you dearly. And there are things that need doing!

The shouting! The parties! Those people are loud!

I must go somewhere far from the crowd.

It must be someplace with tall grass and sunshine and

willow trees bowed.

Where my knees don't get battered by tea tables and trunks

that were moved in the day

by a bunch of young punks.

No, no, no! You can't go!

There are new socks to thieve

and tomorrow we'll be dining

with some guy named Steve.

Think of the mess we can make!

They urged with wet eyes.

Urns to move. Salad forks to misplace.

Children to tickle and dogs to surprise.

If nothing else

then stay one more night

to see the look on Steve's face

when dawn waxes bright.

Spooking Steve sounds like fun, I cannot deny

but it has been done

too many times.

We prank them, we startle

we make old ladies cry.

Sincerely, with sorrow

I must say goodbye.

Your mayhem is vital.

Your cause it is just.

I'm sorry my friends

but I simply must.

We could toss books from shelves!

You know they read the wrong ones.

We could mess up the pantry

and put jam in their guns.

He smiled at this, but still turned away.

My work is completed

my house all in order

and with the look of things future

I may cross the border.

Canada, Oh, Canada!

Now that's a place to haunt!

They have soft men to rattle

and dour ladies to taunt.

Chasing moose into parlors,

drawing faces in gravy.

Or maybe not.

He paused and yawned a long yawn.

Maybe, perhaps, I am just getting lazy.

Fine! Beat it! Scram!

His old friends admonished.

Too proud for this house, hey?

Then you aren't wanted.

Who needs a friend who mucks up the fun?

This country would stink if we just let them run

this place without question, without time, without tact.

You know that we help them. You know it's a fact.

So he stayed one more night

and made noise around Steve.

They made the lights flicker as he dozed off to sleep

and woke him at three to a gust of cold breeze.

Steve woke up groggy and was ashen to discover

that powder had spilled

and in it was written

all the words long forbade

by his Gestapo-like mother.

Our ghost he was happy.

Our ghost he was pent.

He was sure where to go now

and his friends could get bent.

So he walked through the house

one last time and with feeling,

slid down the banister

and left a handprint on the ceiling.

That should do it. Farewell!

He made for the door.

That's all my jokes.

My jokes are no more.

Yet as he drifted past yet another crowd reeling

he decided at once it might just be fair

to pop in and listen, now and again

as someone tells stories from that old rocking chair.

May 17, 2016

Whose Box is This?

Thanks to the late William Chatterton Dix for the melody.

Whose box is this, left here in the snow
on my home’s humble front porch?
Where blue jays proclaim supremacy
and the neighbor’s dog douses the torch.
This box of someone’s new or old
now  soggy and ungluing from the cold
sits waiting still for it’s Santa Claus
to take the damn thing home.

What genius led them to drop this thing off
knowing someone’s holiday is inside?
Way to go mailman you did it again
Just wait until our next meeting.
Don’t say I’m bitter, I’m not even mad
but it’s been here already a week and a half
It’s really, really starting to smell
of old fruit and shellfish and liver.

So at my request come get this sad thing
wear a gas mask if you’re wise
it may not be anything I have guessed
but the smell is burning my eyes.
Please, please reclaim the box
I cry to all who can hear
Please, please take this thing away
my house needs to be aired out for a year.

Usually, postman, you do a fine job
but this one is really an expert bomb
Hurrry, hurry to pick it up
this horrible box of wonder.

 

Untitled

Thwap!

A father and his children trudged through untouched wilderness. Every one of them was disgruntled.

"Dad, why are we doing this?" one of the children asked.

"We are seeking God!" their father exhaustedly growled.

They hiked on, none of their attitudes changing much. The children asked for more details about how God could be found in the woods but their father's responses grew no more detailed.

Finally, they reached the end of the trail. The thick forest fell away to reveal a long ledge overlooking a large river canyon. The sun was just sinking below the far horizon and the sky was spangled with multi colored clouds. Everything around them was speckled with golden light.

The children gaped in awe.

"Aw, dammit!" the father said suddenly.

His children looked at him, puzzled.

"We just missed it," he sighed.

"Missed what?" said one of the children.

"God?" his youngest asked.

He nodded.

The oldest child was skeptical. "How do you know we just missed him?"

Their father pointed to the sunset, "that's the exhaust from his jet pack."

Mommas

 You'll recognize the tune. It's dedicated to all those perfect little works of art out here.

It should probably be said that I don't call people morons. It isn't very sporting and it doesn't help anything. If you miss the point and make it personal keep that drama to yourselves. 

I don't know your dad.

Also, I emailed a link to the Willie Nelson crowd and invited him to give me the what-for if he doesn't approve.

Mommas, don't let your babies get ass-whooped by morons

Make them pick guitars and fix up old trucks

school them on doctors and lawyers and such

Mommas, don't let your babies get ass-whooped by morons

Don't make them stay home where they're always alone

pretending they have somebody to love

Life without daring leaves them youthless and cold

spending their dreams searching heaven for fools gold

belts and the paddle, and the chair for time out say

you want them to clone you

without understanding your way

Mommas, don't let your babies get ass-whooped by morons

Make them pick guitars and fix up old trucks

school them on doctors and lawyers and such

Mommas, don't let your babies get ass-whooped by morons

Don't make them stay home where they're always alone

pretending they have somebody to love

Take them to your best places and let em say that they're boring

make them clean up after puppies and stay up all night

They may never know you

if they do they won't show you

but if you let them be different

they'll more likely say when things aren't going just right

Mommas, don't let your babies get ass-whooped by morons

Make them pick guitars and fix up old trucks

school them on doctors and lawyers and such

Mommas, don't let your babies get ass-whooped by morons

Don't make them stay home where they're always alone

pretending they have somebody to love

Mommas, don't let your babies get ass-whooped by morons

Make em pick guitars and fix up old trucks

school them on doctors and lawyers and such

Don't make them stay home where they're always alone

pretending they have somebody to love

Just Nuts

(A facsimile of this report originally ran in the May 2009 issue of the Porcupine Press. Based on true events.)

A grandmother was in court last month facing charges for feeding squirrels from her front porch. The defendant, who asked to remain anonymous, was ticketed in early April after a report of the offense was called in to police by a nosy neighbor.

This arrest and many others like it come on the heels of a brand new law requiring specific methods of storage and delivery of all food intended for
wildlife (no clause pertaining to college students has yet been specified). The plan is to boost the economy by making all animal feed intended for wildlife
100% organic and U.S. grown, and by requiring all of those who wish to feed their feral friends to obtain a special license. Feeders are now being asked to sign a notarized contract agreeing to comply with a total of 131 new stipulations. Some highlights include:

22) All persons holding a feeding license must
wear two layers of latex gloves while handling food
intended for animal consumption. These gloves are
available at the Secretary of State's offices statewide,
costing $35 for a box of 20.

103) Food intended for animals must be kept
in a green container made from recycled Faygo
bottles. Containers are available only at Home
Depot and Lowe’s for $139.95. Supplies are
limited.

130) If a citizen is bitten by an animal, said
citizen must immediately report the bite and will
be fined $350. Failing to report the bite will result in a
secondary fine of $150 and the refusal of medical help.

131) Henceforth, all rabies cases will be considered
the result of violation of these terms. Any person
who seeks treatment for rabies will be arrested
on the spot and prosecuted to the full extent of the
law. Minimum sentence for contracting rabies
is five (5) years in jail.

This legislation was based on an older law written by a U.S. Senator after he ate venison for the first time while vacationing in the Michigan Mitten and became gastronomically distressed. He and his advisors deduced that the culprit was malnutrition caused by consuming scrawny deer meat, as the animals refuse to feed in fields sprayed with pesticides and they had little else to choose from.

Good citizens are asked to call Homeland Security if they see anyone violating the new law. Wayne and McComb counties have offered a reward to anyone turning in the most elderly ladies in the first month of its enactment. The winner will receive new binoculars, a tazer, and a pair of black fish net stockings.

During his recent weekly radio address, President Obama has hailed the move. “This is a bold and innovative development, one that is based on thorough consideration and intensive research. It is guaranteed to be a positive influence on our economy and will improve the lives of the middle class. I have been criticized lately by people who wonder how we will recoup all of those bailout dollars. To them I say, here it is."

The audience applauded.

He continued, “The initial results of this plan have helped me to realize that this green initiative is the best model for rebuilding our economy, and from this moment on I and my staff will be looking at states and other countries for more of this type of legislation, to use as an example of how to get everything right. Michigan's Green Feed Initiative hold such promise that I have put my staff to work creating a bill implementing these steps on a federal level. I only hope my opponents can see its value and help us get it moved through Congress and onto my desk as soon as possible.”

Feeding licenses are available anywhere fishing and hunting licenses are sold. Three proofs of residence are required, along with a hair sample and your mother’s in-person declaration of her maiden name. The fee is $75 for the first animal and $20 for each additional species. They are good for six months.

Sorry, no Incans Here

(This article originally ran in the January 2009 Porcupine Press magazine under the title "2,700 Year Old Pothead Discovered" If you've come to discover new ways to talk to my tattoos you're in the wrong place - and you're sex offenders rather than cars.)

Family law attorneys have recently been swamped with the sudden upsurge of late night phone calls from middle aged men requesting changes to their wills. The callers are insisting on the presence of marijuana in their caskets at their burial. This comes after the report was made that a mummified 40-something man was found with 789 grams (that’s nearly two pounds) of cannabis in his 2,700 year old grave. 

The tomb, found in the Gobi desert of China, held the remains of a man with light colored hair and blue eyes, a rare and remarkable event in the East. Archaeologists have known for years that the ancient people around the world have used hemp as a fiber, but the debate has remained as to whether or not our ancestors smoked it to get high. The scientists closed the door on this argument. “We know from both the chemical analysis and genetics that it could produce THC,” told Ethan Russo, the lead author of the findings. 

The mummy was also found with what was considered high quality goods in his day: a harp, a bow, quiver and arrows, pottery and a horses bridle. This spurred many other requests from bikers, hunters and musicians who requested to now be buried with their guns and ammo, a record player and their favorite albums and, in the case of bikers, with their favorite handlebars. Each and every one of them also insisted on pot, and most asked for either salty snacks, ice cream or anything from Taco Bell. 

The team, after many late nights of contemplation and research, decided to nickname it “the Gobi Pilta”(pilta being the ancient Tocharian word for leaf). They concluded that the man, who thought of himself as a shaman, had traveled to the Orient in order to show the natives just how cool his music was when mixed with the local traditional dances. The Chinese natives welcomed his magic and made him a part of their tribe. This, as their statement insisted, was in no way influenced by the fact that they spent most of that time watching cartoons, listening to Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon synced to the Wizard of Oz and eating Chinese takeout. 

In spite of the fact that the interview was interrupted many times by unprovoked giggling and the zoning out of the researchers, it was also revealed that there were many seeds in the stash along with the buds. The airing of this information was followed by an abrupt silence leading to an announcement by one of the most fervent gigglers who said, ‘Yeah, man, but now we can only find five!’ An investigation will commence as to the whereabouts of the seeds as soon as they can get off the sofa. 

From the first reports of the find there have been rumors that the ancient Silk Road Trade Route had reopened and that black market ancient pot seeds were suddenly available to the highest bidder. Rumors have also started circulating that some of the seeds came back with Michigan’s Governor after her trip to the middle east in search of companies to start “manufacturing” in her state. This just happens to coincide with the new Michigan law permitting medicinal marijuana, where doctors have reported a steady upsurge in ‘ow! My ______ hurts!’ cases throughout the state.

In other news, an Upper Michigan company is opening a new line of caskets to accommodate these new traditions. Pine Box Ltd. is currently taking steps to acquire licensing rights for their new Green Axe* family of caskets. We at Porcupine Press Publications look forward to seeing their entire line, which includes the bong shaped Bob Marley, the pig shaped Pink Floyd and the tour bus shaped, bandanna lined Willie Nelson. *Pilta not included.