Robert and the Evangelist

This one is drastically in progress...

Robert has a paper cut.

The evangelist has maroon letter.

Robert wants to see Italy in the fall,

his mother is from Switzerland.

The evangelist wants his office

to stop smelling like mothballs.

Robert never drinks his Coca-Cola alone;

his mother is from Switzerland.

The evangelist never walks in the shade;

under the trees smell like mothballs.

When Robert travels across state lines

the grass in the previous state

wilts a little.

The evangelist travels from parishioner to

parishioner on a chopper-motorcycle,

chromed out!

One time Robert took a survey –

he wants to be married in a car wash.

The evangelist owes 39 CENTS to the car vaccum;

all his funds are tied up in equity.

Robert gently drapes cloth napkins

across his lap when he eats.

The evangelist carries a bottle of

hot sauce in his right boot.

Robert plugs his ears with

his fingers in all the wrong places.

The evangelist vowed to never

straighten his glasses by using one finger.

Robert owes his successes at the pub

to a well timed dart throw.

The evangelist surfs the web (!) looking

for natural cures to sleep apnea.

Robert swims laps with his

one-night-stand of two years ago.

The evangelist gets exercise

in a motel’s fitness center – no keycard.

Robert grapples with diesel mechanics

and tosses coke cans in the ring.

The evangelist takes time out of the day

to learn how to properly carve a turkey.

Word Problem

34.

A cook takes an order for a platter of turkeys: each turkey weighs one pound and is the size of a hand – in fact, it is a hand.

She uses two sets of tongs to retrieve the turkeys from the miniature forest walled up on all four sides with glass like a lobster tank – in fact, it is a converted lobster tank.

If each turkey consist of four fingers and a thumb, how many turkeys will it take to make the consumers forget about that one summer they spent blazing trails in the front yard for their Matchbox cars to drive on?

Paving Marathon

On October the 15^th the most ordinary thing happened. A field (approximately 135) construction & road work companies lined up along the edge of a city park. Each company had two machines and two machines only: these units consisted of a paver and one 40 foot 18-wheel dump truck and a handful of men – two for the paver itself and one, two, definitely 3 for the dump truck. Oh, and of course the foreman wearing a brown hardhat.

A local boy – about the age of 8, but it’s really anybody’s ball game – fires a borrowed 9 mm glok semiautomatic pistol into a thicket of trees, and the spectators roar.

No less than 5 minutes later, the first dump truck hits the ignition and jumps from 1^st to 4^th gear, causing his crew to collide with the paver. Along the park’s perimeter are water and electrolyte stations that the crews take-advantage-of on this first leg of the race. All the spectators dig in and plant the bottom quarter inch of their heavily textured green and white and pink lawn chairs.

* * *

It’s eleven o’clock @ night on the Sunday two days after the start of the race and the sprinters line up on the paved edge of the park. The local boy releases a bird over a water fountain and cries as he prays Now I lay me down to… Every one of the eleven sprinters and sixty-odd remaining spectators rush the paving crews. The sprinters get stuck ankle high in the tar and skim a pamphlet on how to remove their track spikes. The spectators reach the paving crews before the barefoot sprinters stop for water.

By now the whole town is in attendance.

A handful of spectators glimpse the boy’s bird and pursue it. The surviving spectators storm past the pavers and jut their chests out to cross the finish line two paver links ahead of the field.

After the crews & sprinters cross the line 9 hours later, all the runners will bury the hatchet next to the bird on a short boat ride down the river and back – stopping just shy of the power plant parking lot.

Long time

I've been so remiss in putting up poems! Or writing here at all. Bah-humbug, I'll say. Let me toss up a few recent poems.

Power Point Poem

I have a power point poem on the way that is completely in its beginning stages. I'm so lucky.