Thursday, August 31, 2017

Pretty Flowers

I’m not sure how I got here
It happened just that quickly
I never broke a single bone
I wasn’t even sickly

But there I was just standing
Beside a road I knew
And suddenly my lights went out
And up above I flew

I yelled for help to hoarseness
But no one seemed to hear
So I thought instead I’ll fly for help
But I can’t be long I fear

I floated to the druggist
And screamed “Call 911!”
But he flipped the page of his magazine
And slowly, softly hummed

I then flew to that petrol man
And found him selling lotto
I yelled “Please get help right away!”
But the sad sac was just blotto

Finally it dawned on me
The ER was just yonder
So I flew as fast as one could fly
‘Could I be heard there?’ I pondered

To my luck there was a lady
With a bandage on her toe
She turned and looked right at me
Saying “It’s too late you know”

“Please tell someone I’m out there
Oh the buzzards and the crows!
If they arrive before the fuzz
Then the driver’s mind could go”

“Alright Alright.” she said annoyed
And called up dear John Law
I thanked the woman’s kindness
And flew back to shock and awe

The police had me surrounded
A blue tarp thrown upon me
A simple stretcher worked for most
For me they’d need an army

A dark plastic container
To hold the scattered pieces
Alas the fauna found me
And turned me into feces

My flights had seemed so swift
But apparently took hours
Not very much was left
But it would grow pretty flowers

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Flags of Failure

Hearken all to the rageful voices
of those who sit on self made thrones
those made afraid of boogeymen
those molded into desparate clones
Now they stomp and gnash with guns and hoods
and convince themselves they're brave
Blind to the shadows that are cast
When their Flags of Failure wave