9073. GARISH POETIC ENFORCEMENT

GARISH POETIC 

ENFORCEMENT

Before the light has died down

in the canyon, I will love you

for Easter and beyond. I put my

long-lost car in hock for this. No

one knows the difference, but I'm

really soon riding to Georgia.

-

I may have parked my good-sense

on the shoreline just this once  -  

and I get so tired of listening only

to reason. Take me away, filigree,

and bring me back again when 

spell-check is passe. I have no

hold for holding any longer.

-

My thoughts come off as venom,

a pistol-packin' mama of some

small man's demise. We've got

a three-tiered competition going

now : Pizza Time runs Taste of

Italy to Little Caesar's backward

glance. I don't know who's running,

so I can't say who's in the lead.

-

I gave my stamp collection to that

rabid Cub Scout who came collecting

yesterday. He wanted seven-fifty for

some random week of the Home News

Tribune. I buried his head in the basement

and diced the rest of him with my new

Popeil's...something or other, I forget.

-

Yugoslavian financial maven's principal

oatmeal cortisone edge. Prescribed only

by doctors whit office hours on Wednesday

evenings. You have to dip in, and you

have to dip out. It's a real quick  cut-off, 

and that cute nurse is always there.

-

She told me once, after reading my

stuff, 'Boy, it may not sound like

much, but you're really professional

in whatever it is you do.'