THREE'S A CROWD

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub

Went to the supermarket 
and you can't even turn around 
without bumping into some body...

Fuken people!

they're everywhere

and the source of all our grief.

Cuz if it were just you and me

there'd be no worry about the economy

we'd barter straight up

one to one

no need for tariffs 

as we'd know each other better 

than anyone else in the world and

trust that we weren't trying

to screw each other over.

If it were just you and me

the skies would be clear 
and the oceans would be clean

and all the methane gas that goes into the 

atmosphere from all the cows and everyone

else farting up a storm wouldn't exist

we'd eat from nature's bounty

brimming on the trees and the vines.

And the murder rate would be way down

no assault weapons

cuz nobody to assault

I could bonk you over the head

with my club if you got really out of line

but you'd be okay.

No white supremacists cuz

having originated from 

somewhere over there in Africa

you and I would be

brown as berries 

(and just as juicy I might add).

Don't dismiss these words out of hand cuz

all the world's major problems

can be traced back to too many 

fuken people

but there's nothing to be done about it now

'cept try to be civil

and don't turn around abruptly in the market

and bump into some old lady

who'll give you the nastiest look

like she thinks you shouldn't even exist.

THE ONLY CONCRETE THINGS IN LIFE

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub

An encore presentation from about three years back. I know that some of you haven't seen it. 

Sidewalks speak
of cig butts and spittle,
old women in door stoops,
poetry cafes and musty smelling bookshops--
the clack of high heels,
the cadence of raindrops,
and children running.

Sidewalks speak
of jackhammers, sirens, and horns--
of just before,
and the moment after,
the corner store
and the ring of laughter.

Sidewalks speak
of dog shit, baby carriages, and
ice cream cones melting in the sun.
Of epithets hurled, flags unfurled,
five o'clock shadows, gutters,
teenagers on the run.

Sidewalks speak
of swirling lights
painted faces
and tango dancers.
Sidewalks speak...
but no one answers.

Sidewalks caution:
WATCH YOUR STEP!
for the road twists and bends.

Life is a nameless corner
where the sidewalk ends.