Sunday, March 25, 2018

dumpster


by chuck leary

illustrations by roy dismas




i remember when men were men
and women batted their lashes
and that was a world, a great world
but now it has turned to ashes

i remember when men were g i joe
and krauts and japs were patsies
and the g i s stormed the beaches
and saved the world from the nazis

i remember when john wayne
roamed the jungles of iwo jima
and died like a hero at the alamo
with other gallant old timers

and dirty harry asked all punks
if they felt lucky today
and the punks were grateful he let them live
because that was the american way

but none of that remains
because everything has changed
now men are women and women are men
and the world will never be the same again

where are the mad scientists
the vampires with their kisses
the werewolves howling at the moon
the heroes defying fate and doom

they are only a little way down the road
in history’s big green dumpster
i see you there on top of the bridge
but there is no need to jump, sir!

every world that ever existed
is down there in the street
and if you listen to the clouds
you can hear their dancing feet



Friday, March 23, 2018

understanding


by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"





i wrote a poem
and explained everything real good
but nobody paid attention
nobody understood

i told them what was wrong
and how to make it right
but now i sit alone
in my little room at night

i hear coyotes howling
or maybe they’re just cats
or people banging garbage cans
with baseball bats

whatever it is
they make a lot of noise
and show a great indifference
to simple peaceful joys

the world is a symphony
of self-generating altercation
the train is off the tracks
but people wait at the station

maybe if they all listened
to my message of love
the oceans would vanish in a puff of smoke
and the skies cave in above



Wednesday, March 14, 2018

i got a right


by jack dale coody





i got a right to sing the blues
i got a right to stay in bed
i got a right to stand on the sidewalk
and let the rain fall on my head

i got a right to walk the streets
i got a right to say you’re wrong
i got a right to look in a window
and sing my little song

i got a right to be happy
though you deny my name
i don’t want to hear your sermon
but thank you just the same

i got a right to tell the president
he is not what he seems
i got a right to an ice cream sandwich
i got a right to dream my dreams

who are you to tell me
what i can and can not do
you have a police force and an army
i know that that is true

i could go on forever
numbering my woes
as the clouds roll by above us
and time’s sad river flows

i got a right to sing the blues
i got a right to say you’re wrong
so i walk the roads forever
singing my little song



Tuesday, March 13, 2018

poem for the lost and the damned


by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"





this is a poem for the lost and the damned
the people who never get a great big hand
the ones who will never reach the promised land
because they are buried up to their necks in sand

this is a poem for the sorry ones
who wish they had bombs and machine guns
to avenge themselves on the people from hell
who keep them locked up in their cells

all the people in strait jackets
who have never held a tennis racket
or a long stemmed glass with sparkling champagne
the ones who get taken again and again

by the smiling entrepreneurs
in their cashmere scarfs and furs
stepping from taxis in perfect sync
with the golden gods who never blink


blink … blink … blink
give me a minute to think
what was i trying to say?
i think i have lost my way

o yes, the damned and the lost
who have no price, but only cost
who fill the shadowy spaces
between the smiling faces

of the ones who were born to rule
who went to the very best schools…
i had something i wanted to say…
maybe some other day…



Tuesday, March 6, 2018

the planet of yu


by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"




on the planet of yu, nothing ever grows.

nothing ever begins, as a seed or anything else, blossoms, goes through changes, and declines and disintegrates before disappearing.

everything and anything just is, and then it is not.

heroes, princesses, dragons, witches, wizards, castles, trees, rocks, flowers, swords, tankards of ale, holy books, legs of mutton, oceans, rivers, stars, horses. campfires, cats, dogs, butterflies, worms, monkeys, vultures, hangmen…. all are just there and then they are gone.

no one is ever “sad” on the planet of yu.

it is not known whether anyone is ever “happy”.



Monday, March 5, 2018

a child is born


by nick nelson

illustrated by danny delacroix





george was born.

he was born in a hospital, which is where children were born in the time and place where george was born.

george’s father was waiting in a waiting room for george to be born, and smoking chesterfield cigarettes while he waited.

george’s father had been george washington in a previous life, and genghis khan in a life before that, and he was kind of a jerk.

a nurse entered the waiting room and told george’s father that george had been born.

she did not say “george has been born” but “it’s a boy, mr johnson”, because in those days it was rare that it was known before a child was born whether it would be a boy or a girl.

but george’s father had assumed that the child would be a boy, and he took another puff of his cigarette, and asked the nurse, “is it white?”

“excuse me?” the nurse asked.

“just my little joke,” george’s father replied.

“oh.” the nurse had been the empress maria theresa in a previous life, and did not have much of a sense of humor and did not like men.

the nurse thought that one man in a hundred was kind of sad and pathetic and felt some pity for them, but that the other ninety nine were jerks.

now you may think that george’s father’s little attempt at a joke was disgusting, and that it was disgusting that he was allowed to chain smoke cigarettes - in a hospital! - but that is the universe’s way, what seems perfectly normal in one time and place is disgusting or ridiculous or both in most others.

after being born, george grew up. he worked for thirty-eight years as a sales representative, at first for a company selling typewriters and cash registers, and then for a company selling blenders and vegetable slicers.

george had a heart attack a month before his fifty-eighth birthday, and died four days later. he died, as he had been born, in a hospital.

he was survived by two ex-wives, and three children, all daughters, who despised him.



Wednesday, February 28, 2018

the stranger


by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"





if you see a stranger stealing something
help him get away
he may rule the world tomorrow
and then what will you say?

if you see a stranger laughing
by himself in a doorway dark
he might be father noah
catching animals for the ark

if you see a stranger weeping
by the side of the highway broad
he may have won and lost a kingdom
is that so very odd?

if you see a stranger walking
on the surface of the waves
though the ocean not devour him
he may still wish to be saved



if you hear a stranger tapping
on your window late at night
he might be judas iscariot
trying to make things right

if you pass a darkened window
and see a demon in its depths
run to the nearest mountain
for the demon is yourself